The Ties That Blind
by JPC
Summary: Angel discovers a vampire that Spike sired working with a rogue Slayer in Orange County while plotting to take on Buffy's army.
1. Snared

I decided to write a story about a rogue Slayer in the L.A. area who's shacking up with a vampire Spike sired back in December. Andrew's appearance inspired me to write about Buffy's neo-Council. This story is set between Cordelia's death and Fred's death. Aside from Angel and his friends, it branches out to feature the Scoobies, Drusilla, and two other female vampires from Spike's past who are of my own invention.

"Then we're agreed," Angel announces with a sigh of relief as he looks at the purple demons to his left and the green demons to his right. "You'll stop eating his clan's babies. And, in exchange, he'll stop raping your clan's virgins." Both groups mumble and slap the conference table as a sign of assent. Angel stands up and shakes the slimy hands of the two leaders. The demons leave. Angel pulls a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and wipes off his right hand. He sits down at the end of the table, his back to the window, and puts his head on the table. Three hours. His entire morning. For this. He hears the doorknob twisting and promptly sits up. Gunn enters.

"I'll have a draft of the treaty on your desk by the end of the day."

"Why? You're the one who knows demon laws and customs. And you're the one the pay. Send the thing straight over to them. Or, to whichever courier it is who can teleport to their dimension."

"You mean Vicki. I'll be sure to find her." Gunn leaves. Angel gets up to leave the room himself, but is met at the door by Wesley.

"There you are. We need to talk."

"Can't we do that in my office?"

"Two Neiblingstat are already in there."

"My 12:15? I told Harmony to keep them in the lobby."

"The Neiblingstat is an extraordinarily punctual race. If they're kept waiting, they usually retaliate by devouring passers-by. In this case, your employees."

"Then I better get over there." Wesley holds him back.

"While they may be punctual, they're also terribly absent-minded. So long as they are in the right place at the right time, they are content. Even if the person they are there to see isn't around."

"What is it you wanted me to keep them waiting for?"

"Since you took the helm at Wolfram & Hart, large numbers of vampires have fled Los Angeles."

"The fruits of our Zero Tolerance policy."

"Have you wondered at all where they went to?"

"No. There isn't any evidence of increased vampire killings in the suburbs, if that's what you're implying."

"It's not. I'm implying that the vampires are adapting. Becoming more sophisticated."

"Meaning what, exactly?"

"Meaning that it appears some vampires have found a way to cooperate with groups of humans."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"It is if the humans are criminals, and if the vampires continue to be evil."

"What are you basing this theory of yours on?"

"I've been contacted by several law enforcement officials from Orange County, and all of their stories match. The vampires are based in the town of Laguna Hills, about forty miles south of here. They operate in tandem with a small gang of teenagers. The humans allow the vampires to sleep in their homes, and often travel with them, offering a measure of protection against surprise attack."

"Human shields. Stupid kids."

"The vampires, in turn, alert the youths about approaching cop cars and help muscle around and intimidate their enemies."

"By killing them?"

"No. They just give them a good thrashing. The vampires are very careful about maintaining a low profile. And even more careful about avoiding people who could do them harm. The demon fighters simply can't come to grips with them."

"And that's it? Sounds a little minor league for us."

"I know it does. But I believe that through further investigation, we might discover - "

"I didn't say I wasn't going to do it. Naive, wayward kids allowing themselves to me used by monsters. It's only a matter of time before they end up dead. Or sired. I'll be down there tonight."

"Excellent. I'll prepare a dossier detailing sightings and possible meeting points."

"To tell you the truth, I've been looking forward to saving a few souls face-to-face for a change."

"One more thing. I think you should take Spike along."

"You're the last person I'd expect to hear that from. Since when did you become a Spike booster?"

"He has a way of finding these things out. It won't be long before he heads down there on his own and gets into a mess that we'll need to clean up. Better to keep him on a tight leash. Also, when Spike's with you, he's not getting befriended by people who want to do you harm."

"You make it sound like he's some child."

"I prefer to think of him as a ward of the firm. By the way, you're 12:15 is still waiting."

Angel rushes over to his office. But during all his meetings on this busy afternoon, his mind keeps wandering to this new mission. Shortly after sundown, he goes to Spike's apartment. The door's unlocked, so he enters. Spike sits on the couch, playing Frogger. "Spike, we got something important to do."

"Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?" Angel pulls the plug out of the wall. An enraged Spike leaps to his feet. "You bloody idiot! I was two jumps away from finishing level twelve!" Spike lunges at Angel, who pushes him back down onto the couch.

"Glad to know you have the priorities of a champion."

"It's a little early. Or have you forgotten when the beasties come out cuz you're stuck up in that ivory tower?"

"We're going on a little trip."

"You mean a little trick, don't you, mate? I'm not walking into some desert ambush."

"Fine. I'll go be the hero on my own. You can stay here and miss out on all the fun."

"Reverse psychology. Like that's gonna work on me." Angel starts walking out. Spike gets up and follows. "You expect me to sit back and let you hog all the glory for yourself? How thick do you think I am?"

Angel explains the situation as he drives down 405-South. In about an hour, they're in Laguna Hills, heading east on El Toro Drive. "Should've let me take the wheel," Spike complains. "You drive like an old lady."

"We're looking for vampires."

"Not on the highway we weren't."

"Shut up and keep an eye out."

"So, Mister Thinks-He's-the-Leader, what's the grand plan?"

"We find the vampires. But we don't kill. Not right away."

"Wut if they're attacking some helpless innocent? They do have quite a knack for that."

"Then of course we kill them. But what we want most is to follow one of them to their lair."

"Wait for the big score. Makes sense. In a simple, best of all possible worlds sort of way. But what if their human friends get in the way? Got anything in the offing besides a stern lecture?"

"I'll handle the youngsters."

"Youngsters. Listen to yourself. Yeah, you'll really connect with the kiddies. Like Pat Boone opening for Eminem."

"Shut up."

"That's real mature of you."

"Quiet." They're sitting at a red light. Angel rolls down his window. Spike does likewise. "You hear that?"

"The new Rancid record someone's listening to a few cars back? It's not bad."

"No Spike. The trunk of the car right in front of us. Someone's banging on the top."

"Hardly qualifies as an emergency. People can survive for hours locked inside a trunk. Knew a guy who lasted a day-and-a-half. I had completely forgotten about him."

"You're not actually suggesting that we let them get away?"

"If you want me to jump out, grab the driver and beat him until he frees the poor bloke, fine. Perfect. The light's green. There goes that idea. If, on the other hand, you want to follow him to God knows where, I'm getting out. We're didn't come all this way to save some mobster who double-crossed his boss."

"We don't know who's in there."

"And, while we're waiting to find out, how many people round here could get eaten by the vampires we were supposed to kill?" The car in front of them takes a right and heads south on Avenida Majorca. Angel follows. "Just perfect! Now we're heading away from the bloody town."

"I can't turn my back on something like this when it's right in front of me. I'm surprised you can. No. I'm really not." After a mile, the car makes a left and heads east on Los Alisos Boulevard. They pass under Interstate Five and approach the border between Laguna Hills and El Toro. On their left is El Toro Park. Without warning, the car's rear and front right tires go flat. It starts swerving and slows down. Angel slams on the brakes to keep from rear-ending the vehicle he's tailing.

"TIre blows out. How's that for a lucky break?," Spike asks Angel. The wounded car pulls over. Angel does likewise. He and Spike get out. The four men who were in the car look over the damage. Naturally, they are very angry. One of them points at Spike.

"You did this!"

"Bollocks. I'm not even the one who wanted to tail you."

"Spike, you idiot."

"Oh, cum on! We're going to have to fight them anyway." Standing on the sidewalk, Spike looks at the four men. "Who wants to go first?" They all go bumpy. "Bugger. Should've see that coming." Spike glances at the right rear tire. "Is that a dart?" One of the vampires grabs Spike's shirt and leans in to bite him. Spike head-butts this guy in the nose and knocks him down with a right hook to the face and a left uppercut to the chin. "And I thought the vamps in LA were bloody stupid." Another vampire charges. Spike knocks him back with a right kick to the chest. Lacking a crowbar, Angel is busy trying to pry open the trunk with a wooden stake. Spike looks to his left. "Can you save that for later, Angel? I think I found our vampires. Fine. More glory for me." Two of the vampires look to their left, peering over the hedges into someone's front yard. Spike finds this insulting. "Over here. Remember me, the bloke who's about to dust you?" A third vampire looks to his right at Angel. When Spike tries to take advantage of their confusion and charges in, stake in his right hand, the forth vampire grabs his right wrist and throws Spike to the ground. When he gets up, Angel's opening the trunk. A teenage boy and girl are inside, bound and gagged. Not quite sure which threat to concentrate on, the four vampires run across the street and flee north through the park. Spike crosses the road, but stops to look back at Angel, who's unbinding the victims' arms and legs and removing the gags. "It's a little early to take your victory lap with the damsels. They're getting away!" Angel runs north and joins Spike in pursuit. But they've lost valuable seconds.

While our heroes were busy confronting the vampires, a boy and a girl who had been hiding behind the hedges snuck east, then crossed the boulevard one hundred yards behind Angel and Spike. When the vampires reach the back of the two hundred yard-wide park, they find the young man standing there, waiting for them, his arms folded across his chest. He's an inch shorter than Spike, about as skinny, with a dimpled chin, soft brown eyes, and slicked-back black hair. He wears blue jeans, a black Smashing Pumpkins t-shirt, and a red plaid flannel shirt. Though younger and smaller than any of the vampires, his presence stops them in their tracks. "You know I don't allow killing on my turf. But you figure you can get away with hunting here, since you're driving the prey away and doing the killing somewhere else. Very clever."

"Bring in a little outside help?," one of them asks.

"I don't need any."

"Then what the hell just happened back there?"

"Couple vigilantes who were in over their heads," the young man says with a gleeful smirk. "You escaped from them. But not from me."

"Good. Cause we've been looking forward to getting you alone." The young man goes bumpy. The four vampires charge him. He flees to the north and then heads west, dashing through people's yards and hurdling over fences. The little chat allowed Angel and Spike to catch up. When the young man left the park, they were within fifty yards of the vampires who were chasing him. After covering four blocks and more than a quarter mile, the man makes it to Rockfield Boulevard. He sprints across the street into the parking lot in front of a 7-11. The vampires had caught up. He turns, smiles and raises his hands in mock surrender. One of the vampires shoves his back into the store's wall. The guy just laughs.

"Those vigilantes sure are stubborn." The vampires turn and see Angel and Spike crossing the street. The guy pushes back the vampire who was holding him. The vampires look frantically for a way out. They were prepared for fighting one vampire. But not three. Especially not if two of them are Angel and Spike. They assume the kid vampire is in league with the two ensouled vamps. One of the trapped vampires grabs a man who just left the store and is opening his car door. The young man goes unbumpy, rushes over and hits this vampire in the face with left and right hooks before throwing him to the ground. "Go away!," he tells the frightened man while pushing him into the car and slamming the door shut. Fearing for his life, he does as told. The young man turns, ducks a kick and sweeps out the vampire's legs. When the fourth vampire charges, he dodges the attack and throws the vampire behind him, sending his head into a the door of a parked car. Angel and Spike hang back at the sidewalk. They are mighty confused by the spectacle they are witnessing.

"Why is that vampire protecting people?," Angel asks.

"Maybe I've spawned imitators."

"You? Please. Besides, it's just a turf battle."

"Then where are his followers?"

"Probably lying in wait. He's led the enemy into a trap."

"He shot out their tires."

"I didn't hear any shots."

"With darts. I saw them in the sides of the tires. He must've been lying in wait behind the bushes. That's wut they were looking around for." The man runs to his left, outflanks his attackers and scales the left side wall of the convenience store. The four vampires follow him up onto the roof. Angel and Spike move forward, staying to the right of the store. The man hops on top of the air conditioning fan, putting him almost three feet above the others, who surround him on all sides.

"I'm sorry you can't hunt in LA. But that doesn't mean I can relax my rules. You should have taken your chances in the big city. Because, round here, poaching gets you a guaranteed death sentence. You might as well have gone to the beach today at high noon." A vampire leaps up at him. The man jumps in the air, does a back flip and lands in the alley behind the store. The four vampires jump down as well. One of them never makes it to the ground. He's dusted in mid-air by a crossbow bolt. Angel and Spike, crouching behind the chain-link fence that separates the store from the restaurant next door, are impressed with the marksmanship. They can tell it came from behind a dumpster at the other end of the alley. The sniper tosses an ax to the young man. He catches it as a vampire attacks, ducks a right hook and beheads the vampire.

"I don't bloody believe it," Spike says in disbelief.

"Come on. He's not that good." If Angel had glanced at Spike's face, he would realize that Spike knows this vampire. But he's too busy watching the action. The young man blocks a left hook kick and ducks a right roundhouse kick. He counters by landing a right hook kick to the ribs, a left punch to the face, and swings the ax upwards, smacking his opponent in the chin with the top end of the shaft. The vampire falls on his back. The young man brings the ax handle down and stakes the vampire with the sharpened bottom end of the shaft.

Meanwhile, the sniper emerges. She's a teenage girl, five feet six inches tall, with green eyes and long, curly, bouncy brown hair. She wears black boots, brown cargo pants and a red t-shirt. The crossbow is strapped across her back. She rushes confidently at the final vampire. Spike's and Angel's jaws drop. They quickly glance at one another. "This can't be what I think it is," Spike comments, expressing the thoughts of both men. When she gets within range, the vampire steps forward and throws a right hook. The girl stops on a dime and leans back out of the way. She lands a leaping straight left kick to the vampire's chin, then a right hook kick to his face, knocking the vampire down. She stands back and lets him get up. When he charges, she knocks him back a few steps with a quick left roundhouse kick to the chest. He leaps in the air and tries a flying right hook kick. She turns to her left, avoids the kick, grabs his right foot and sends him hurtling to the ground. Angel and Spike glance at each other again. She must be what they think she is. Which raises a number of questions, especially for Spike. At this point, the girl's vampire ally has staked the other vampire. The girl lands two left jabs, ducks a right hook and lands one of her own, knocking the vampire to his knees. When she goes in for the stake, he hits her in the face with the back of his right hand and gets up. She tries a left cross, but her grabs both her arms. She frees her arms, pushes him back, ducks a right cross and lands three left hooks to his face. She follows this up with a straight right kick to his chin. She pauses, catches her breath, knocks the vampire on his back with a right hook, then leans down and stakes him.

"Wonder where this is going," Angel says with a mixture of dread and curiosity. "Don't you, Spike? Spike? Earth to Spike." He's just staring straight ahead.

"You could have staked him when he was still standing," the young vampire tells the Slayer.

"And let him die on his feet? I like to win my fights by knockout."

"Of course my girl likes knockouts. She is one." They pull each other close and start making out in the sloppy, tongue-heavy way that's disgusting to behold. Especially for these two spectators. For them, this is the equivalent of a deadly car accident: stomach-churning to stare at, but impossible to turn away from. But they do take notice of the fact that they are not at all concealed behind the chain-link fence. They move to their right, turn left and circle round the back of the property. All the time staring at the slobbering couple. The maneuver has the downside of giving them an unwelcome opportunity to observe the face-sucking from multiple angles. After thirty second of lip-lock, the girl pulls away.

"Dev, I think someone's watching."

"I know Deb. Kind of a turn on."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. Don't worry. They're behind that fence." He points to their original location, and sees nothing. Deb hears steps from behind, and turns Dev around. He chuckles at the sight of Angel and Spike. "There you are! Another minute and I was going to start charging you two for the privilege of living vicariously through me."

Deb and Dev walk towards their visitors. He's cocky and clearly savoring the moment. She's rather wide-eyed. Dev stands in front of Angel. Spike is to Angel's left, straight across from Deb. He stops ten feet away. She walks right up to them.

"Oh . . . my . . . God. Oh – my – God. Omigod. Oh my God!" She glances over her left shoulder at Dev. "Is this really them?"

"In the flesh, baby doll."

"Oh my God! What an honor! You came all this way for me?"

"No," Angel responds truthfully.

"Liar," she responds with a flirtatious smile.

"Believe me when I say I never saw you coming."

"Oh," she says with a disappointed pout. "Then you're here for Dev."

"Yes and no," Spike responds.

Deb walks back to her boyfriend and takes his right hand in her left. "We really need to do a better job getting our names out there, and letting people know about the great work we do."

"Something tells me these two will take care of that."

"You're right," Deb responds. "Like always." She smiles and gives him a quick kiss on his right cheek. Then Deb puts her arms around his chest and rests her chin on his right shoulder. She gazes up into his eyes, revelling in the chance to flaunt their relationship in front of such distinguished guests. "You think they're jealous of you?"

"Who?"

"Who do you think, silly?" The happy couple looks at Angel and Spike. Angel rolls his eyes. "Look! They're trying so hard to pretend they're not. Guess that means they really are." Deb slowly lets go of Dev and walks up to the visitors. "You are so old. Both of you." She points at Angel. "Especially you." This greatly upsets him. "No. I'm sorry. You don't look older." He's relieved. "You both look, like, I dunno thirty five."

"Like bloody hell I do!," Spike complains.

"Relax Spike. She's trying to bait us."

"Does botox not work on vampires? Don't get me wrong, you both look young. Just not young enough to be dating girls my age. I'm seventeen. The thought of being with you, it's just, ewww," she says while pointing at Angel. "You look old enough to be my father. Or, like, the father of one of my friends." She points at Spike. "You don't. Cause of the hair. It just screams committed bachelor.' Still, it makes you wonder about her," Deb says as she backs away. "I mean, my father's long gone, and I never even thought of using my boyfriends to work through my daddy issues. Makes me feel sorta sorry for her. And I've never felt sorry for anyone."

"Why?," Angel asks. "Too busy feeling sorry for yourself?"

Deb looks at Dev. "Was that less than five minutes?"

"Had to be."

"Okay. You win." She hands him a twenty dollar bill, then looks at Angel to explain. "We had a bet about how long it would take for you to try to save me. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate you're wanting to help and all. But I'm not some lost little girl zooming down the road to oblivion with no seat belt on."

"Of course you're not," Angel sarcastically responds. "So far, you've probably just done little things. A little breaking-and-entering here. A little vandalism there. Nothing that's really bad."

"And where are you getting this from? I don't have a record."

"My apologies. There isn't a law against harboring undead murderers."

"Are you blind, or just stupid?"

"The second one," Spike jokes.

"I slay undead murderers," Deb tells Angel.

"Not all of them," he responds.

"Did Buffy get all of them? Does anyone? I don't need a morals lecture."

"No Deb. I think he's trying to give you an ethics lesson," Dev says.

"What's the difference?"

"It allows him to show off how smart and well-read he is. I'm sure the Guilt Prince thinks Schopenhauer's got mad skills. That is if you're the deep sort, Angel. Otherwise you'd be into Sartre and Camus. But how deep can a philosophy be that can be summed up in a Rush song? But none of that really matters since you're not doing it to win the argument. You just want face time. Because, in your mind, no girl can resist your charms for very long. It's all about the brooding and the soulful long stares."

"You mean he just wants to hit on me?," Deb asks. Dev puts his arms around her, savoring the chance to flaunt his girl in front of Slayer-loving vampires. She rests her head against his chest. "So where do the chains and tranquilizers fit in?"

"He'll only use those if you're clinically insane. Which is his medical definition of a mental condition afflicting all women who are unable to fall in love with him." Spike laughs. He's getting a kick out of Dev ripping on Angel. Dev gives Spike a sinister grin. "You won't be laughing for long. With Angel, I'm just pulling stuff out of my ass. You and me, we have a history. The night is still young."

"But some of us have stuff to do," Deb says to Dev. He lets go, and she walks up to Angel, looking very serious. "Let's get one thing straight. This is a free country. I love my freedom. To me, losing my freedom's like losing my life. And if someone's trying to take away your life, you kill them. You got it?"

"I do. You're psychotic."

"Why? Because I love a vampire? Because I want nothing to do with any Council?"

"She's good," Spike mutters.

"Don't pretend to like me," Deb sternly says to Spike. "Don't pretend to be my friend. Because I know you want the same thing your boss does. At least he's up front about it."

"Now that's a slanderous, bloody lie. Angel is not my boss."

"Chill out, Robin. I just meant Bruce Wayne over here's in charge. I didn't mean to imply something's goin' down in the Batcave." And to think, a few seconds ago Spike liked this girl. "But enough jokes," she continues. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't need anyone to train me. I won't let some stranger take my life away. I won't be one of her drones. I have a will of my own, just like she does. So go tell Buffy that if she sends her New Model Slayer Army after me, they'll be hell to pay." Angel scoffs at this ludicrously empty threat. Deb walks back over to her boyfriend. He puts his arms around her waist. She runs her left hand down his chest and caresses his face with her right hand. "You sure it's safe to be all alone with them? We can't exactly trust these two."

"And they can't trust me. Don't worry, baby. I'll be safe." They kiss and she runs her right hand through his hair.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Angel says to Spike regarding these repeated ostentatious displays of affection. Fortunately, this kiss only lasts fifteen seconds. Deb walks off. Devlin smiles, hoping he's made his two visitors jealous of his good fortune.

"Didn't recognize you at first, on account of the new haircut," Spike says, making small talk.

"It's not new," Dev tells Spike pointedly, as if he should have known that.

NEXT: Devlin catches up with Spike, as has a few words for Angel as well. He also has some news about what Buffy's been up to.


	2. Killing a Slayer

"Now this guilt of yours. That is new," Dev says to Spike. "What's it like? How does it it feel? Is it like Dead Souls'? Do they keep calling you?" Dev laughs.

"I'm guessing Spike hasn't read Gogol," Angel notes. Dev sneers at him.

"The song, you ignorant Philistine. The book's a comedy. I'm guessing that your existence isn't. All those regrets. The infinite remorse." He starts singing. "Someone take this pain away, that points me to another day.' Am I on the ball?"

"Don't have to be a bloody rocket scientist to guess that much."

"Ironic. Because the Spike I knew never felt any regrets. Not even when he screwed up."

Angel's starting to come to a horrible conclusion. To distract from this horror, he tries small talk for the time being. "So is Deb short for Deborah?"

"Debbie. Like the singer who was onstage when Spike and I met. Do you remember what they were playing?"

"It's been a while."

"Take a guess," Dev demands with a tinge of outrage in his voice.

"Die Young, Stay Pretty?"

"It was Rip Her To Shreds.' But you're right. It has been a long while. Back then, you were cool. People admired you. Wanted to be like you."

Angel looks horrified. "I don't believe this. Spike's your sire." Once he says it, Angel starts laughing, and finds it hard to stop. "You. You're Spike's. He made you! He-heh-he-heh-heh," Angel keeps on laughing.

"He's laughing at you," Dev says to Spike. "Are you going to let him get away with that?"

"He's laughing at you," Spike responds.

"He's only laughing at me because you're my sire. Which means he's really laughing at you."

"No. I'm laughing at both of you."

"Which one of us isn't going to bed alone tonight?," Dev asks to get back at Angel. "That's what I thought. Who's laughing now?"

"Actually, I still am. Is it Devon?," Angel asks changing the subject away from the Slayer girlfriend who seems to be Dev's one point of pride.

"Devlin."

"No," Spike objects. "It's Hermann."

"As if the two of you still go by the names your mothers gave you."

"You've really done a number on this girl," Spike says to Devlin. "Got her singing your tune. New Model Army? That has to be your line."

"It's apt."

"No it's not," Angel disagrees. Comparing Buffy to Oliver Cromwell seemed wrong on so many levels. Devlin defends his analogy.

"A concentrated, unbeatable force that pushes around former allies the Supreme Leader doesn't need anymore. Tyranny in the name of self-righteousness. Does any of this ring a bell?"

"You don't have a clue what you're talking about," Angel declares. "Guess that's one way you take after Spike."

"Perhaps I'm not entirely on-the-mark. A general usually leads the army. But they showed up around her, she wasn't with them. And the first time I saw her, they weren't around. Next time you talk to the little lady, tell her that a week's training might not be enough for a new girl. That's right, pop. I snuffed a Slayer. Though nowadays that's kind of like hitting sixty home runs in a season. Means a lot less than it used to."

"Does your girlfriend know this?," Angel asks.

"Certainly does. Do you hide things from the people you love?"

"Please. I don't know what you two have. I don't want to know. But it's not love."

"Because I don't have a soul?"

"Because you're a killer."

"Was a killer."

"Nice try."

"Not all of us are as simple as you, Angel. Animals are slaves to instinct. Now you may be an animal, but I'm something more. The biting and the drinking gets so repetitive after a while. And least for those of us who have brains bigger than a reptile's. I'll trade great sex for mediocre killing any day of the week."

"You didn't used to find it so mediocre," Spike recalls.

"Everything loses its novelty over time."

"The Dev I knew would have his cake and eat it, too. The Dev I knew would sneak out after she went to sleep and feed in LA."

"I'm off the human stuff, dad. Except for a couple days every month when Deb's, well, I'm you sure you both know what I'm talking about. Especially you, Angel. Just because you can't get off doesn't mean she couldn't. Unless you're the selfish type." Dev can tell from his face that this never occurred to Angel, and he starts laughing. "Poor girl. Might as well have made her wear a chastity belt. Maybe you did." Dev laughs some more. Spike and Angel are both slightly sickened. "I get it, Angel. You didn't want to tempt yourself. There's always a danger in making the carnal too . . . carnal. Especially when your will is weak. But it goes without saying that you kept her happy the rest of the time," he adds with a devilish smirk.

Angel wanted to rip the insolent lad's head off. He also preferred to forget Dev's last monologue. "Why should we believe a word you say? Come to think of it, why should we listen to you at all?"

"Because I don't want to kill you. Or anyone you care about. There's no reason for us to clash. You have your turf. I have mine. They don't overlap. Fighting would be senseless. I love Debbie. I'm sure there are people you love, so you understand the lengths I will go to in order to protect her. To keep her from getting hurt. That's another reason I don't bite. I know that if I killed to feed, she would feel hurt and betrayed." His voice gets choked up. "And I would never do anything to hurt her." Then his voice quickly returns to its usual calm, icy tone. "However, if someone else were to hurt her, I would gladly kill for reasons other than sustenance."

"You're not bad at posturing," Angel concedes. "But I just can't take seriously any threat coming from a mini-Spike." Angel laughs again.

"The skinny woman with the long legs, short skirts, glasses and southwestern accent usually drives back to her hilltop house next to Highland Park very late at night. I wonder if she'd put up much of a fight." Angel can see the coldness in Devlin's eyes. He isn't even smiling, which strikes Angel as very unusual. Angelus surely would have smiled after uttering a line like that. Spike wants to get back to that dead Slayer.

"A Slayer. Always knew you had it in you. When was this?"

"Late last August. In Johannesburg."

"What were you doing in Africa?"

"I was slacking off in the Seychelles when a few refugees trickled ashore. Talked of two Slayers coming from out of nowhere. Once the vampires in Capetown heard, some of them fled before the stake-fest ever came their way. There's been a lot of that going around. Vampires see two Slayers, they think there could be twenty. But I decided to see for myself. First two nights, your Slayer Queen was still there, so I held off. This gave me time to scout locations, learn the lay of the land. Speaking of lays, Buffy was with a man. He looked rather young for a Watcher. Also, he lacked the customary English accent. I think his was Spanish. Maybe Italian. I wasn't listening too closely. Handsome devil, though. Long story short, the Queen leaves, and the next night I pounced on her drone. I believe her name was Hilda. Pretty little blonde thing. You two might have liked her. Me, I don't go for blondes." He looks at Spike. "You used to be the same way."

"So what? You killed a green Slayer. Is that supposed to impress me?," Angel asks.

"Why would I want to impress you? Your opinion doesn't matter to me."

"So it's only Spike's approval you're after?"

"Actually, I think he should be after my approval. Look at yourself. Look at what you've become. You used to be a star. People admired you. You wanted something, you took it, and crushed anyone who got in your way. Including this big lug, if he had stepped to you back in the day. Now you're his sidekick. His sidekick!"

Angel laughs. "Your kid might have a point." Spike glares at Angel.

"Don't go blaming your old man," Dev continues with a chuckle. "It's your own damn fault you ended up like this. Remember Olympia? Summer of '97? I offered to help you. You knew there was no one in Sunnydale you could count on. But nooooo. You had to go it alone. Always the gladiator. And look where it got you! There's more to being a warrior than a series of single combats. There's strategy and there's tactics. But you had always been too good a fighter to ever need to bother with those. And maybe you still were. Maybe mom was right. You could have killed her, but you took a dive cause you loved her from the start."

"Mom? No. You don't mean . . . you can't mean," Angel starts laughing again. "Drusilla?" He laughs some more. "You call her mom?" More laughing. "On the plus side, for having parents like that, you seem surprisingly well-adjusted." Devlin looks at Spike and points at Angel.

"And you choose to put up with this? He doesn't even respect you. I don't mind, because I have someone who loves me. A girl who's glad when I'm around, and misses me when I'm not. Which reminds me: Why haven't you gone to Rome and looked her up? I have. And I don't even care about her. What are you afraid of? No, don't tell me. I know this one. You're afraid she doesn't love you! The fear of rejection: that's the only reason any guy stays away from a girl he desperately wants to get with. Now, you could be a man about it and kill the guy she really loves. Whoever that may be. But that would involve being a man. Which apparently is no longer within your capability."

"You went to Rome?," Angel asks. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your little rant. It reminded me that vampires often have unusual insight when it comes to their sires."

"Your girlfriend know you're this obsessed with Buffy?," Spike asks.

"First, this was long before I ever met Deb. Second, I am not obsessed with Buffy. I could care less about her. She's the eye of the hurricane. Nothing going on there. But there are lot of interesting things circling around her. Like her sister. The two of them share a charming if derivative town house. Though they don't share much else. Dawn's Italian is better than mine. Then again, mine was never that good. After school, she likes to get a cappuccino at a cafe near her school. Or a double espresso when she's feeling tired. That's where I met her. The outdoor tables are under a veranda, and it's only a block from the nearest subway stop. To Dawn, I'm a sophomore at Columbia who's doing a semester abroad and likes his espresso with a shot of grappa. I convinced her to do a shot after her mid-term exams. She didn't like it. But she disliked the second shot somewhat less. And she liked the third shot. At that point she was a little tipsy. More than a little. She worried Buffy would notice if she went straight home. So I took her to the third Matrix. She didn't think it made sense, but assumed that was because of her inebriation. I told her it wasn't. Buffy didn't notice she'd been drinking. Or so Dawn told me the next time I saw her. At a discotheque she frequents.

"Dawn likes to dance. She's ticklish on her stomach. When she was little, her mother and sister called her pumpkin belly.' She likes to read, and isn't quite the film buff that I am. But when I recommended that she see The Bicycle Thief,' she took my advice, and told me that she really liked it. Thought the kid was adorable. On a cloudy, drizzly Saturday I saw her on the Spanish Steps and then gave her a quick tour of the Forum. Showed her the spot where Tiberius Gracchus was clubbed to death. Pointed out the remains of the house where the Vestal Virgins lived. She seemed interested in the idea of teenage girls chosen to perform a sacred duty. I wonder why? Dawn struck me as smart and lovely, but lonely. Otherwise, I couldn't have spent so much time with her. It goes without saying that I never gave her a chance to learn I was a vampire. Besides, that isn't an assumption she would make, at least not in that city. Vampires are quite rare in Rome now that it's become the Queen Slayer's hive. I might have been the only one. I'm sure I was the only one in the city who was still killing. You want to know a great way to steer clear of Buffy? Hang out with her sister. Though that strategy did cause me to meet the King Watcher. But that was at a museum, and I suppose that's their habitat. Rupert was impressed with my knowledge of the Chigi Olpe vase. Which led to a discussion of Etruscan hoplites. I tried to convince him that while they used the panoply, the Etruscans never fully employed close-order phalanx tactics. Which caused him to cite the Servian reforms, and Roman borrowings from Etruria, and, well, I'm probably boring you by now." He hopes this sent a chill up their spines. And, if not, he hoped that at least this made Angel take him seriously.

"Sounds to me like you're all talk," Angel dismissively replies. Dev raises his hands above his head, cracks his knuckles and pretends to stretch. Crossbow bolts slam into Spike's and Angel's chests. Each one is between one and two inches above their hearts. Angel thinks he can spot the source of the shots. The snipers appear to be hiding behind a car in the rear parking lot of the adjacent restaurant. That puts the shooters sixty feet in front of them. "Always hiding behind someone. Is that the way you work?"

"Those were warning shots," Dev informs them. "Come back here, and they won't be. You'll just be walking down an alley, spot a tree with your epitaph on it, and the next thing you know you'll be dust."

"Sounds like someone's been reading his Sun Bin," Angel says to Dev. Spike doesn't get it.

"Besiege Zhou to save Wei," Dev replies, once again leaving Spike in the cold. "It's been fun. But, unlike you boys, I have someone waiting up for me."

"Maybe tonight you do," Angel responds. "How long do you think it will be before she comes to her senses?"

"Make all the assumptions you want about us," Devlin says as he slowly backs away. "They're wrong." He backtracks around the side of the store until he's out of their line of sight. Only then does he turn around and walk forwards. Angel can hear the snipers running away. The two of them stand there for a few seconds.

"Apparently, I taught the boy all too well," Spike comments self-servingly.

"Like Hell you did. He's nothing like you. There's barely a resemblance. For starters, he reads. And possibly thinks." They both walk back to the street. Angel has any number of questions. He'll start with the ones Spike can answer.

Okay, I know Dev and Deb acted pretty arrogant, and Angel let them get away with talking some smack. But don't worry. I'm just setting them up for a fall. Angel beats the bad guys and saves the wayward. The story's just not as interesting when Angel's in control of the situation from the very beginning.


	3. Teach Your Children

"Maybe he's learned a new trick or two," Spike concedes.

"Was he always this methodical?," Angel asks.

"Hermann has the daft idea that planning made everything a whole lot easier."

"You were never much for siring. Especially not guys. How'd he happen?"

"It was the night after I killed Nikki. That was something of a high point in my career, and Dru suggested that it was time we started a family, create a legacy. Hermann had brains and charm. You know how rare a combination that is. He knew a thing or two about punk rock, enough for us to have a nice conversation. He told me he was a film student. Big into computer programming. Talked about how these machines were going to change everything. I hadn't a clue what he was talking about. Hermann joked that I still lived in the nineteenth century. That settled it."

"Sounds like he had a bright future. Until you took it away."

"Oh, get off your bleeding high horse. How many times did you do the exact same bloody thing?"

"Which is why I understand if you're feeling guilty about siring him."

"You keep trying to empathize, and I'll put a stake through both of our hearts."

"Fine. You've never been one for self-examination." Angel looks down at his wound and thinks about what transpired. "He's obviously been waiting for us for a while. Maybe months. I think it's safe to assume that he knows where Charles, Wesley and Fred live."

"That would be his insurance, in case you tried to go after his girl."

"I'm not going to let anyone intimidate me. Certainly not some wet-behind-the-ears vampire."

"Is catching this Slayer worth all that?"

"She's obviously abusing her power. Someone has to save her."

"Have you forgotten what happened to the last Slayer you tried to save?"

"Either they don't know about her, or they don't have time to come for her. Which makes her our problem."

"What problem? There's someone out in the 'burbs slaying vampires. How is that a problem?"

"Don't be so naive. Who knows what else she's up to. And I know he's up to no good. I don't buy his no biting speech."

"I did. It suits him. Herman never feasted the way we did. Most of what normal vampires love leaves him cold. He's been an odd sort since day one."

"Sounds like a real prince," Angel comments sarcastically.

"I'm not saying he's nice to everyone. But when he meets a girl he likes - "

"Why does she see in him? He's not that good looking."

"Herman's quite the catch."

"You're a little biased on this matter." Angel laughs. "Everyone likes to think their children are perfect."

"Okay. So he's not exactly me." Angel scoffs at Spike's boasting. "But he's still easy on the eyes."

"Not easy to pull the wool over a Slayer's eyes."

"Dev's sensitive. He listens. He really cares. And when he doesn't, he's great at faking it. The boy was something of a late bloomer. Didn't get that many dates as a human. So he learned to try harder. And no one exploits teen angst like Hermann. And he's had plenty of practice. Hermann's been nineteen for more than a quarter century."

"Why do you call him that?"

"It's his name."

"His human name. He hasn't been human for a long time. We all called you Spike when you switched."

"It took you a few years."

"Not twenty seven."

"My name meant something. His doesn't."

"He must have chosen it for a reason."

"Guess he figured Devlin sounded cooler than Hermann."

"A lot of names sound cooler than Hermann. Why that one?" Angel can tell Spike's hiding something.

"He never bothered explaining. Does it matter?"

"Not as much as figuring out what his game is."

"Sounded to me like he wants to hurt Buffy a lot more than he wants to hurt us. Makes sense. She's the bigger target."

"But we're the target he can hit from Orange County. I don't buy his live-and-let-live talk," Angel argues. "He'll come after us when we're not looking, and he'll run away when we are. Boy's clearly got it in for me. And he obviously has serious issues with you."

"He took Dru's side after we broke up."

"A mama's boy," Angel says with a smirk.

"He wants to beat you and me. That's bloody obvious. But Herm can't enjoy that if we're not around to tell him he's won. The lad doesn't want us dead."

"Your boy wants to play divide and conquer, that's fine with me. I just need to get the Slayer alone."

"She doesn't trust you."

"I can work on that. I've done it before."

"Will you get over yourself? Faith didn't have a boyfriend. Or friends of any kind. She was lonely and desperate. Best as I can tell, this girl's neither."

"That's it. We convince her that we want to protect her from Buffy. That we want to keep her in California."

"When did you decide to work against Buffy."

"I'm doing Buffy a favor. This girl's mind's been poisoned. She gets carted off to Italy, she'll try to be Spartacus and lead a Slayer revolt."

"We'll need more than truth and honesty," Spike guesses. "Deb will think it's a trick. Herman definitely won't let us near her."

"He's brainwashed her. He's probably the only person who's told her anything about what it means to be a Slayer. Bring her out into the wider world, and his hold will break."

Less than a mile to the west, Debbie sits at her desk in her bedroom, studying for a math test. Devlin enters. Debbie leaps to her feet and hugs him.

"Thank God you're back. I was worried."

"They weren't ready for a fight. Now they know that we are." Dev and Deb keep holding each other tight.

"I'm scared, Dev."

"Of them?"

"And Buffy. And the Council. And that crazy law firm. You said they have commandos."

"You're too powerful to mess with. They know that."

"You know what's more powerful that a Slayer? Ten Slayers."

Dev strokes her hair and gently kisses the top of her head. "I told you before. They try anything, we'll have plenty of warning."

"And I'll have you." She kisses him and sits down on her bed.

"They'll have to kill me before I'll let them take you away."

"Don't say that." Dev takes off his flannel shirt, sits to her right and runs his left hand through her hair.

"But it's the truth."

"You'll be a lot more useful to me alive," Deb tells him. Dev smiles and kisses her. Deb pulls his t-shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. She runs hands down his chest, then takes off her own shirt.

"I'm a lucky guy."

"The luckiest."

"Hey. That's my line."

"Come here, lucky." Deb knows that most people would think Devlin is evil and she's sick for being with him. But he treats her better than any of her human boyfriends ever did. And none of them made her feel anywhere near this special.


	4. Control

"A Slayer," Wesley repeats. "Are you sure?"

"Unless you know of another way a human teenage girl can acquire super human abilities," Angel responds.

It's the following morning. Fred, Gunn and Wes sit on one side of the conference table. Angel sits on the other. Spike slouches against the window in the back of the room, his arms folded in front of him.

"Are they like weeds?," Fred asks. "Remove one, another sprouts up in her place?"

"The location of new Slayers is entirely random," Wesley explains. "And, from what I understand, a new one appears somewhere on the globe at least once every week."

"She wasn't new," Angel tells them. "She's experienced. She's entirely comfortable with her powers. From the way she behaved, I'm guessing she's had months to get used to them."

"If she knows what's up, if she knows demons are evil killers, why does she protect this one vampire?," Gunn asks.

"He's a very charming lad," Spike explains. This makes the humans uncomfortable.

"I forgot. He's your kid," Gunn quips.

"That's not wut I meant."

"Forget about the vampire," Angel suggests, "and focus on the girl. How tough has her life been? Does she go to school?Are her parents around? I'm guessing they're not. Find out everything you can about this girl and her friends. Her human friends."

"Sob story aside, what could cause a Slayer to take up with a soulless vampire?," Wesley asks, to Spike's consternation.

"She could be evil," Fred suggests.

"That's the simplest explanation," Gunn concurs. "The vampire doesn't want to die fighting her. An amoral Slayer wants to maximize her power. They become natural allies."

"She is not evil," Angel insists. "Just lonely. And naive."

"Lonely? I thought you said she had friends?," Fred asks.

"They can't help her fight."

"Like hell they can't," Gunn dissents. "Two of them nearly dusted you guys with an efficiency that would make my old crew proud."

"Just find out what you can about her," a frustrated Angel commands. "Police records. School records. Talk to her teachers, acquaintances. I want a complete profile by the end of the day."

"What about the Senior Partners?," Gunn asks. "Do we know where they stand on this matter?"

"Why should we care?," Angel responds.

"She's a very powerful weapon. If they know about her, and if they know that she's willing to collaborate with evil, chances are they'll want to add her to their arsenal. Ya gotta watch your back."

"Is that a warning, or a threat?," Angel suspiciously asks, given how Charles is the closest one to the Senior Partners. Gunn is wounded by the accusation.

"When have I not been on your side?," Gunn responds. "Tell me when." Angel drops it.

"Gunn makes a good point," Wesley concedes. Angel finds this ironic, considering how Wes did betray him, though of course Wesley can't remember. "There are other forces at play. The Council, for instance."

"She made it pretty bloody clear where she stood on them," Spike reports.

"That's why I believe she'll work with us," Angel argues. "More than anything, Debbie wants to stay home. We can help her with that."

Wes grins slyly. "Are you suggesting we ally with this Slayer against the Rump Council?"

"I'm not suggesting we become Buffy's and Rupert's enemies."

"Why not?," Wes responds. "They've made it clear that they consider us to be their enemies."

"Only because they're misinformed."

"Willfully misinformed. Or, more accurately, willfully uninformed." Wesley doesn't care what Rupert thinks of him. But he is insulted by how easily Giles could assume Angel was no longer one of the good guys.

"Why didn't they pick her up last month?," Fred inquires.

"They probably didn't know about her," Wes surmises. "If they're finding these Slayers one-by-one, they could find Debbie next week, or six months from now. To say nothing about how soon after that they'd attempt to make contact with her." 

"Which is why she's scared," Angel concludes. "All those uncertainties. We can provide her with a little insurance. Provided she trusts us. But that won't happen unless I get a chance to talk to her. And before I even try that, I need to know more about her." Angel leaves the room. The other three linger and look at Spike, who's lighting up a cigarette.

"What the bloody hell is it?," he asks them, slightly annoyed by the gawking.

"No smoking," Fred informs him.

"Says who?"

"The firm. State law," Gunn explains.

"Oh, cum on! My second-hand smoke is the last thing people have to worry about around here." They still stand there looking at him. Wes walks over to Spike.

"I recall hearing about this Devlin vampire back at the academy. He was seen as a real up-and-comer. Someone to watch out for. I didn't know he was yours. He sounded so meticulous and cerebral."

"If you want to call me stupid, be a man and say it to my face."

"Relax, Spike," Wes says calmy and with a note condescension. "All I meant was that your approaches differed. He's supposed to be very dispassionate."

"A real joyless killer. Never smiled when he was massacring. He's cool as a cucumber when it comes to his work. He saves his passion for other pursuits."

The alarm starts beeping at seven o'clock. Deb slaps the snooze bar and climbs out of bed. Dev reaches out, grabs her arm and gently pulls her back onto the mattress. He opens his eyes. "Morning, love," he says with a smile.

"Morning," she responds, gives him a little kiss and tries to get off the bed. But Dev holds onto her legs at looks up at Debbie.

"Leaving so soon? We still got some time, right?" He pulls her down on top of him, she laughs, and playfully wrestles to break free.

"You know I got school in, like, half an hour."

"It's a five minute drive to the parking lot. A five minute walk from there to your homeroom. That leaves us what, twenty minutes?" He puts his arms around her and they wrestle some more, both of them laughing. Before long, she pins his arms and shoulders down. "I like where this is heading," he tells her as she kneels over top of him, straddling his midsection.

"You forgot the part about showering and getting dressed and drying my hair, so I don't look like crap."

"You look great from here." He frees his right arm and runs his hand through her hair.

"Of course you say that," Deb replies as she takes a pencil off the desk with her right hand and brings it down towards Dev's heart. He laughs and grabs her right wrist with his left hand. "I'd kill you if you didn't."

"Also, because I love you. To me, you could never not be beautiful." Their fingers interlock, and she drops the pencil. Deb puts her left hand to his face.

"Were you ever this sweet?"

"Never. Because I was never in love."

"You know I have to go."

"And you know I can't leave the house."

"A man who knows his place," Debbie jokes. She leans down and kisses Devlin. Once she leaves the room, he rolls over and goes back to sleep. After she showers, and gets dressed, Deb gazes down at her man. He looks so peaceful. She strokes his hair. He smiles.

"He's as patient as he is vicious," Spike tells Wes, Gunn and Fred. "The boy loves to do his homework. He may already know where each of you live. And I bet he's already been in this building a few times. He gets a kick out of sneaking behind enemy lines.

"Then why didn't he nail us before we saw him coming?," Gunn asks.

"Because Angel is not his enemy," Spike replies. "Not yet. He doesn't want to make more enemies than he has to."

"Mutually assured destruction," Wesley concludes. "He knows that he cannot defeat Angel. So he wants Angel to believe that a victory would come at a catastrophic cost."

"We've taken down plenty of vamps in our time," Gunn points out. "Why should we worry so much about this one? He attacks, we defend ourselves, Angel dusts him, end of story."

"Because he won't attack," Spike explains.

"Are you certain he's yours?," Wesley asks. Spike glares at him. "On a serious note, I dimly recall something about Devlin taking out an entire Council cell in Budapest about a decade ago."

"The Budapest job. He was very proud of that one. Told me all about it."

"What did he tell you?," Wesley asks. "The Council never found out what happened, on account of their being no survivors."

"Here's his side, for what it's worth: The lad wanted to make a name for himself. So he started biting the locals by the coach-load. Soon enough, the London boys sent three commandos after him."

"That much I already knew," Wesley reports. "Tell me what I couldn't know."

"I was getting there. They raided his lair in the daytime, and he escaped underground. When they came back at night, he ducked into the alley, a whisker ahead of their crossbows. Dev told me he tripped and fell on his face as he stepped through the door. That way they'd think he was a coward AND a klutz. So they rush out back to finish him off. He's hiding. Watching them. The moment they let their guard down, he comes out of nowhere, knocks two of them to the ground and kills the third. Then he goes out front and slashes all their tires so they can't get away. When the two guys come out, he knocks one down, takes his phone and disappears. A little while later, he does the same to his partner. They try to head home for backup. But when they hail a cab, he leaps out and kills the cabby. After doing that twice, they give up on cabs, and don't even think of trying to step on a bus. They have to walk. Dev keeps at them for a couple hours, dragging them into deserted alleys, attacking and disappearing. Never giving them a chance to get help. Drives them half-mad. They know he's always watching them, that he can kill them at any moment. When they finally can't go on, he carries them inside before the sun comes up and tortures them until they tell him where their local safe house is."

"Those men are trained to withstand torture," Wesley points out. "They would die before telling a vampire anything that could betray their colleagues."

"If I were torturing them, or if Angelus was, you'd probably be right. But Devlin things a little different. He tied the two of them up. Then he told one bloke that he didn't tell him what he wanted to know, he'd sire his partner. There are things people fear more than pain or death. They squealed. He let them off easy with stab wounds through the heart. Next night he staked out the safe house the Council's local operatives worked out of. When the owner and his wife stepped out, he nabbed them and pulled the same stunt. Told the bloke to give him an invite or he'd vamp his beloved and let her eat him. Bloke wouldn't betray his men. So Dev bites his wive, drains her most of the way, gives him another chance. No dice. Dev cuts his arm and lets her start drinking. Seeing his wife doing that was enough to make him crack for a split-second. Dev keeps his word, stabs them both in the spine. Around noon he walks up to the house, an umbrella over his head to block the sun. They never expected a vampire to waltz into that place. Certainly not in middle of the day."

"You seem to remember that story all too well," Wesley notes.

"Kid was proud. Talked my ear off. Same tale, over-and-over. What he did to them is his standard procedure. Lure the enemy in, cut them off from their base, wear them down, never let them get a clean shot at you."

"Except for that Slayer," Wesley adds. "Provided he's telling the truth about killing. I should check into that." He leaves the room.

"I have a few sources in the Orange County P.D.," Gunn mentions before leaving. Fred and Spike stand there, nervously alone, for a few seconds.

"You need someone to talk to?," she asks.

"No. Why?"

"I dunno. I kinda figured you'd be feelin' a little guilty."

"For what?"

"For Devlin. You are sorta responsible for everyone he's ever killed."

"Same with Angel for every vampire he ever sired. You ever tried to have this talk with him?"

"Okay. I get it. It's an alone thing. Probably with lots of silent brooding. But the offer still stands."

"Sorry if I don't take it up. But thanks for caring." Fred smiles slightly, then leaves. Spike, now alone in the room, continues to smoke and starts pacing back and forth.

At lunch, the gang's back in the conference room, including Harmony and Lorne. Angel's glad that something's brought them all together. This case, with its simple, human scope, reminds him of the old days. "Spike, I just occurred to me that I've never heard you sing," Lorne announces.

"No bloody way. I'm not into giving other people an all-access pass to my sub-conscious."

"I understand. Not everyone is a good singer."

"I'm a very good singer. It's the bloody mind-reading I object to."

"As good as Angel?" Angel's surprised and gratified with the apparent compliment. Spike laughs.

"Angel? He couldn't carry a tune if it was strapped to his back."

"Sure, he's no," Lorne pauses, "Barry Manilow." Lorne chuckles. "But he was good enough – or brave enough – to get on stage and show off his pipes in front of a hundred strangers."

"I'd be glad to sing in front of a thousand strangers. So long as none of them can tap into my thoughts."

"I checked into Deborah Owen's background," Gunn announces, shifting the conversation back to business. "She's never been arrested. But the cops have been watching her. Along with five human friends of hers. The six of them have gotten into confrontations with other youth gangs. Pseudo, wannabe-gangs, actually. Bloods and Crips they definitely ain't. In fact, they're not even the Jets and the Sharks. But it's the suburbs. Police out there have time to focus on nuisance crimes. I have her address, as well as the addresses of those friends."

"What about her family?," Angel asks.

"You were right about there being problems. Mom died in a car accident when Deb was eleven. Dad got sent to prison for cooking crystal meth when she was thirteen."

"Her dad was a drug dealer?," Angel wonders.

"No. Small-timer trying to make a few bucks while he was out of work. Didn't know enough big-time players to be worth a plea bargain. So he got ten years. The girl's aunt and uncle have been her legal guardians since then. But I'm not sure if they actually live with her."

"How long have the cops been watching her?"

"Three, four months at most."

"Only since she became a Slayer," Wesley surmises.

"Is there like a Slayer-loving gene that gets passed from vampire to vampire?," Harmony asks about Spike's spawn. "Or should we blame the Slayers? Are they just naturally attracted to vampires because they have the super-power thing in common?"

"I do think we do need to find an adequate answer as to why they didn't try to kill one another," Wesley haltingly responds, trying to segue from Harmony's non-sequitor. He places a manilla folder on the table and opens it. "I contacted our office in Capetown. They were able to obtain the Johannesburg medical examiner's report on the Slayer Devlin murdered. Hilda Grubers Botha. Aged sixteen years, seven months. Bitten twice. Once on each side of the neck. And she was forcibly raped. While still alive." A silence caused by revulsion falls over the group. Spike looks very nervous.

"Something you'd like to tell us?," Angel asks.

"It's a trick I taught him," Spike confesses, his held drooped low in shame. "You drain enough blood to weaken them. They're not strong enough to resist, but they are strong enough to cry in pain and beg you to stop. When you've had your, fun, you finish draining them. But trying it on a Slayer – that was too reckless even for me to consider."

"So we know his sadism can get the better of his good judgement," Angel concludes, trying to draw a constructive lesson from the disturbing information. Vampires dream of turning a fearsome Slayer into a helpless victim. But neither Spike nor Angel knew of anyone who tried to take it to this level. "Everyone killer has a fetish. I guess his is control."

"I haven't gotten to the worst part," Wesley warns. "There were nine other homicides that night in the neighborhood where Hilda's body was found. Eight of them died in a coffee shop. All of internal injuries. No bites. He just beat them to death in public. The ninth body was missing its head. From the contents of his wallet, the body was identified as one Nigel Henry Barrington. He went by Hal. At least he did when I knew him at the Council. The head was not found. Apparently our vampire took it as a trophy."

"Not exactly," Spike announces. "If I know Devlin, that head found its way to Rome. He called it pulling a Hasdrubal'."

Wesley goes pale. "Poor Rupert."

"Wait," a confused Harmony interrupts. "What's a Hasbro Ball?"

Wesley explains. "Hasdrubal was Hannibal's brother. After the Romans defeated and killed Hasdrubal at the Battle of the Metaurus, they cut off his head, carried it three hundred miles south and tossed it into Hannibal's camp."

"Does that mean he dropped the head of at Buffy's?," Harmony asks.

"Hal was a Watcher. Giles would have been the one who sent him to South Africa."

"Poor Giles," Angel adds. He knew a thing or two about taunting Rupert with dead bodies. Devlin's act struck him as crass and artless – a reminder that he is sire was Spike. Still, he imagined it must have been devastating. Then he realized there was some art to it. "He said he met Rupert. That they hit it off at a museum. Unbelievable. He kills a Slayer. Mutilates a Watcher. Rubs Rupert's nose in it. Then he befriends Buffy's sister and makes nice with the guy he traumatized."

"Sounds to me it's Buffy he's after, and we're just caught in the crossfire," Gunn comments.

"But so is Debbie," Angel reminds them. "She's our concern."

"Got a plan regarding her, chief?," Lorne asks.

"It's a Friday night. The kids will be out. We scout the scene."

"Not all Slayers like a man who lurks," Spike tells Angel with a smirk. "And what you call scouting, she might call stalking."

"Not me, you idiot. They know me. They know you. We'd set off alarm bells." Angel thinks for a second. Then it occurs to him. "We send Harmony."

"What?," Wes exclaims.

"My thoughts exactly. I'm a vampire. She's a Slayer. I know I've made a few mistakes as your secretary. But sending me to my death – isn't that a little extreme?"

"She hasn't seen you. Her boyfriend probably hasn't seen you. And, out of all of us, you'd be the best at blending into the high school social scene."

"Well, I suppose that is one of the benefits of eternal youth. And having been really popular in high school. Which could create a problem. You said you wanted me to blend. What if I can't help shining and become the center of attention?"

"I guess that's a risk we'll have to take," Angel deadpans.

"Oh goodie. Oh goodie! I finally have a mission," she gleefully exclaims before regaining her composure. "I promise that I won't let you down, boss."

"I'm sure you won't. Now could you go type up the minutes from yesterday's board meeting?" The lunch ends and the group breaks up, heading back to their respective posts. Wesley and Gunn flank Angel as he walks out.

"Are you sure this is wise?," Wesley asks.

"I also have reservations," Gunn admits. "A vampire? What's the Slayer going to think?"

"We need to learn more about her. All of you are too old to be hanging around with high-schoolers. We know that Devlin's seen Fred. He might have also seen you two. Which makes it all the more likely you'd blow your cover. So what's left? Sending a few of our commandos? We know how bad they are at blending into the background. Harmony's perfect. They'll never see her coming."


	5. Father and Son

Devlin pays Spike a visit to discuss Buffy and catch up with his sire.

After the sun sets, Spike heads for home. Inside his flat, he discovers Devlin sitting on his couch, watching the tele.

"What's wrong?," Spike asks. "Your Slayer give you the boot?"

"She doesn't have HBO. Mind if I tape Sex and the City' off your set? Oh. This one's a rerun. Big returns to New York, and Carrie spends the night in bed with him – with their clothes on. They just lie there, holding each other. That's all they do. For the whole night! How lame is that?" Devlin waits for an answer. Spike is, understandably, at a loss for words. "And he's supposed to be the show's bad boy."

"When was this first on?"

"Last year."

"When last year?"

"I dunno. In the summer, I think. Why?"

"No reason." Spike definitely wants to change the subject. "Wouldn't get too comfortable. I'm not looking for a roommate." Devlin laughs at Spike's joke and walks around the flat.

"You could use someone to help you decorate the place. It's large enough. But the bare whitewashed walls give it an institutional feel. And the furniture's depressingly bland."

"On the plus side, I did get it scot-free."

"You used to get better free accommodations."

"But I didn't have to kill for this one."

"That makes two of us," Devlin replies, referring to his present living arrangements.

"You can't keep this up for very long. It's against your nature."

"You're one to talk."

"That's different. I couldn't follow my nature."

"Because of the chip. I told you the microchip would change your life the first time we met. You wouldn't listen."

"You meant computers, not brain surgery. Can I get you something to drink?"

"That's nice of you." Devlin sits backs down on the couch. "Mind if I smoke?"

"Long as you let me bum one."

Spike hands Dev a cup, and the two of them light up and drink their animal blood. "Not bad. Course I've never been very discriminating when it comes to the red stuff. Human, animal – all tastes the same to me."

"It's not the taste you miss. It's the killing. And the longer you go without, the worse it hurts. Before I had my soul, once that chip stopped working I would've jumped the first person I saw."

"Where's the challenge in that? Like hunting farm animals. There's no payoff. It means nothing. I have to know that my work matters." Devlin chuckles. "Sorry to sound pretentious. I know how much you hate that. But you know better that there has to be excitement. Immortality's worthless if you don't put it on the line every now and then. You taught me that."

"And a whole lot more," Spike adds with obvious regret.

"Please, no remorse. Not around me. You don't tell your kid that you wish he was never born."

"I killed you, Herman. Took away your future."

"And gave me a whole new one. I've made the best of it. Most vampires don't. I'm the first to admit that just about all of them would have been better off not getting bit. But guys like you and me, we're the exception."

"You want me to be proud of you. Is that it?"

"Not proud. Astounded. But not yet. I've just gotten started."

"Right now, you seem to be caught in a holding pattern. Why didn't you kill Debbie like you did the first Slayer you met? Was she too strong for you?"

"I wouldn't know. I never tried to kill her. Never even tried to hurt her."

"Love at first sight." Spike rolls his eyes. "And you claim to be a bloody original."

"You're right about one thing. I was planning to kill her. But first, I had to scout her. See what she was made of."

"You always did love your sodding, tedious preparation."

"Two vampires attack Debbie, and I see a look of terror in her eyes. She wasn't fighting them. She was fighting them off. It wasn't combat. It was more like a mugging. She just wanted to escape, to have them leave her alone. I wasn't expecting that. Didn't take me long to change plans, rip off the nearest tree branch and take out her attackers."

"A Slayer who's a damsel. Opportunities don't get more bloody golden than that. Explains why she thinks you're a good guy. But how did the vamps know she was a Slayer before she did?"

"Long story. Interesting, but long. Maybe I'll tell you it later on. What mattered was you-know-who hadn't gotten to Debbie and turned her into one of the Borg. The Slayer I killed had no humanity left in her. She was all Slayer. Like a machine. A cog in a machine, actually. Part of some Greater Whole, saturated with purpose and mission and an air of inhuman invincibility. No cognizance of the fragility of her life."

"Sounds like you just got pissed cuz she wusn't afraid of you."

"You're wrong. It delighted me. The further she had to fall, the more I loved knocking her down. You wanna hear how I did it?"

"I already know. But how did you preserve the head all the way to Italy? That's a seven to ten day cruise."

"Dropped it in a jar of formaldehyde, stashed it in my suitcase. But I took a plane. This is the twenty-first century. Not the nineteenth."

"Some things haven't changed. Like the sun."

"I stowed aboard in the cargo hold. Sure, it's cold. But I sleep most of the way. And the ear-popping wakes me up before the landing."

"What ear-popping?"

"You've never flown. It's very convenient. I don't think I've taken a ship since I moved away from you and Dru."

"What if it lands during the daytime?"

"I have my umbrella to shade me. I may get some weird looks from the ground crew when I walk out of the belly of the plane. But I'm gone before they security guards can catch me. But back to Hilda. You know who I blame for taking away her humanity? Buffy. When I was scouting, I could hear her talking to the girl. Telling her had been given this great gift, this incredible responsibility. Like it's all about empowerment and Grrls Kick Ass neo-feminism. What about the dark side? Before Buffy met Hilda, she had her whole life to look forward to. The night after Buffy leaves, she's dead. And all because of Buffy. Someone has to make her feel responsible for killing all these girls."

Spike can see the twinkle of inspiration in Devlin's eyes. "You wanna make Buffy suffer. Trust me Dev, she already has. More than you can possibly imagine."

"Very interesting." Devlin thinks about this. "Suffering usually gives a person depth, complexity, doubt. Healthy human traits. I saw none of that. I saw a person who was completely and utterly sure of her power and her righteousness. You're telling me she wasn't always like that?"

"I'm telling you that you don't know a bloody thing about Buffy. You've read her all her wrong, Dev."

"Or, she's changed since you last saw her. Was that before or after the mass Slayer mobilization?"

"During."

"Was there a pressing reason for that? Or was it just a Slayer good, more Slayers better' calculation?"

"Just a little idea she had to save all the girls parked on the Hellmouth."

"Then why not just give them the upgrade?"

"I'm not sure the mojo works like that."

"So it was just a positive side effect. One which I can turn negative. More Slayers fighting means more vampires killed. But it also means more Slayers dying. Buffy will never see the people these girls saved. But she will see the dead girls. And she'll know they're dead because of her. That's a tough burden for anyone with a conscience to bear. Gotta love the irony, though. She's providing them with the very fate she once feared. Soon enough, every time she activates a new Slayer, she'll have to wonder, am I giving this girl a death sentence'?"

"You've put a lot of thought into this. It's as if you hold some sort of grudge cuz she's hurt you."

"Impossible. We've never even really met. But I'm always on the lookout for targets. And right now, she's the biggest one by far. You have no idea what it's like out there. The vampires are running scared. It feels like Slayers are around every corner. Nothing but fear and cowering and confusion among our kind. All of a sudden, we're the underdogs. Buffy's the hyperpower. She's Rome. I'd like to be her Hannibal."

"Hannibal lost."

"After seventeen years of fighting, and hundreds of thousands of deaths. I think Buffy's more sensitive to casualties than the Romans were. They're horribly overextended, you know. Scores of inexperienced Slayers roaming the globe. More than she could ever hope to protect. So many chances to hurt her without giving her a chance to hurt me. How could I resist?"

"And your girlfriend?"

"She'll outgrow me. Hopefully not for a year or two. These human-vampire relationships never last forever. She grows up. I can't. I just want to make sure she gets the chance. And I'll have plenty of fun with her in the meantime."

"How unbelievably noble and unselfish of you. Emphasis on unbelievable. Cuz I don't believe you."

"What can I say? Life's a lot more fun when you have something worth dying for."

"You're preaching to the bloody choirmaster."

"I knew you'd understand. Life's nothing without passion. And she's mine."

"I bet it doesn't hurt that helping Deb get what she wants means giving Buffy the finger."

"There's so much more to it than that. I feel like we were meant to be. I felt it the moment I saw her. Guess timing really is everything. I show up a week earlier, or a day later, and we might never have met. There's no fate. No destiny. Just chances. You miss one, you never get it back. Speaking of missed chances, how come you're six thousand miles from Buffy? Why did you two split?"

"Cuz I died. That kind of put an end to things."

"It should have also put an end to you. Care to explain?"

"For starters, it wusn't your ordinary death. I got roasted while saving the world and closing the Hellmouth."

"You did that? My sire made the giant crater? That is so cool! An entire town forever wiped off the face of the earth. You're like Vesuvius! I'm proud of you, dad. Hate to say it, but I am. How'd you pull it off?"

"There was a necklace with a large crystal hanging from it. I put it on, and my soul saved the day."

"That's some kickass bling-bling. But how did you get your body back?"

"About three weeks later, the necklace was sent to LA and I popped out of it."

"Like a genie."

"More like a ghost. Had to make do for four months before I got my body back."

"How charming. In a vaguely derivative sense. Has Buffy taken up pottery? You, her, a little Unchained Melody'? You're telling me it never crossed your mind?"

"If that's a Ghost' reference, sorry, but I never saw it."

"Lucky you. It had this depressing ending where good triumphs over evil. But it sounds to me like you never actually died. You just got sucked into the mystical bling-bling you were wearing. And then you were sucked out of the mystical bling-bling, but without your molecules, which came later. In one form or another, you were always stuck on earth."

"Sounds plausible. If you hadn't left out the part where my flesh was burnt to a crisp."

"Obviously it didn't take," Dev quips. "So you save the day, but the girl ends up all alone. Damn, that is like the movie. Except, if he got a second chance, I don't think it would have taken her long to jump his bones. That's how it is when you love somebody."

"She doesn't know I'm back. And, once again, you don't have a bloody clue what you're talking about."

"Is there a Curse? You know, like Angel's?"

"I earned my soul. He didn't."

"You were in a better position to negotiate the terms of the deal. Which is why you can do what he can't. Or, who he can't, as the case may be. To me, that sounds like an insurmountable competitive advantage. Provided, of course, that she loved you instead of him."

"If you're trying to get me on your side, don't bother. You can't."

"I know. I just wanted to make a few observations that I'm sure have already occurred to you. You're a very big man, working with Angel even though he has the heart of the woman you love."

"So you want to get on my nerves. Tease me into a fight to the death. Is that it?"

"Spike, you're my sire. Killing you would be like nullifying my own existence. And it would be the height of ingratitude. I love you like a father. You know that."

"I also know that, in my world, killing your parents is the norm."

"How depressingly Oedipal. I'm more comfortable with an absentee father than a dead father. Much like Buffy. And Dawn. How did you two get along? Did she go crazy for you, like all the other young girls you've met?"

"If by crazy you mean that she wanted me dead, then yes."

"That surprises me. A charming stud like you. A lonely girl like her. How could she resist? Not even a schoolgirl crush?"

"You're the one with the crush on a schoolgirl."

"Debbie is far more than a crush."

"Wasn't talking about Debbie."

"Then what the hell were you talking about?"

"Oh cum on, Dev. She's your enemy's sister. The perfect target. And you don't lay a fang on her."

"So what if I liked Dawn? I could never love her."

"Because of her big sis?"

"Because I could never be honest with her. You can't have love without that. There was so much I couldn't tell her. I'm sure there was plenty she felt she had to hide from me. I bet it's like that with everyone she meets. Dawn's a true exile. She doesn't fit in anywhere. It's tough being a despot's sibling. At least Napoleon gave his brothers kingdoms to rule over."

"No love without honesty? Does that mean you've told the whole truth about your bloody life to Deb?"

"I love her. I had to take that risk to make sure she loved me."

"I'm beginning to worry about this girl."

"I'm shocked. Buffy loved a mass murderer. How is this any different?"

"The difference is, you still are a mass murderer."

"Not since we met."

"Does she know that you're having fantasies about killing other Slayers? Or that you have no regrets about all the people you've already killed?"

"It's called living in the present."

"Funny thing about the present. It's always changing. This moment you're enjoying with your Slayer won't last forever. When it ends, it'll end badly for you. And it'll hurt like nothing you've ever felt before."

"So I should be a coward walk out before that can happen?"

"This isn't going to end well. And I don't just mean with Debbie."

"I forgot. I'm already doomed to be vanquished by the invincible Buffy. Do I strike you as the suicidal type?"

"Not yet. That's why you're here, holding off on fighting her. You're too smart not to know what you're getting yourself into. If you really love this girl, you won't risk dragging her down with you."

"The odds are against me. Something the two of us have in common." He pauses, puts down his empty cup and checks his watch. "Look at the time. Hate to keep my girl waiting. Oh look. It's that scene I told you about." Devlin leaves. Spike looks over his shoulder at Dev.

"Hope for your sake that I don't see you around."

"Don't worry. I'm not a big fan of L.A. Didn't think you were, either." He closes the door. Spike picks up the remote and is prepared to change the channel when he glances at the set. He drops the remote and stares at the screen. "Well isn't this bloody surreal."


	6. Wager

At 2:45, Debbie walks through the halls of Laguna Hills High School towards the front door, along with hundreds of other students who are relieved the school week is over and looking forward to the weekend. Her hair, more frizzy than curly today, is pulled back. She wears blue overalls, black boots and a red long-sleeved t-shirt, and carries her books in a satchel slung over her right shoulder. Amidst the hustle and bustle, she is overshadowed by her larger, faster-moving classmates. No one seeing her now for the first time would guess that she's a super hero. When she gets outside, she looks up at the clear blue sky and the bright sun. It actually makes her slightly depressed because it reminds her of the limitations of her relationship with Devlin. She knows there's something sick and inhuman about that. At the same time, she knows there's also something natural about missing someone you love and wishing they could be with you more often. By now, Deb was used to the inner conflict, accustomed to the passionate, boundless affection she felt when she was with him and to the loneliness and self-loathing she felt when they were apart.

Then there was the one big fear that was always in the back of her mind. Debbie knew that Devlin was a massive aberration. She had no illusions about the true nature of vampires. They were monstrous killers. Maybe her love had changed Devlin. But for how long? And if he returned to his prior, natural behavior, would she have the strength, the will, to kill him? Being a Slayer had really screwed-up her life. At the same time, it left her life less screwed-up than it had been before. That's what separated Debbie from Buffy: she had so much less to lose. And, she had no one to control her. No one to stop her from abusing her powers in an irresponsible manner. Deb walks through the parking lot. Two jocks in their varsity jackets lean against a Saab. In front of the driver's door is Ryan, who is six foot seven and white. To his left is Shawn, who is six foot five and black. Surrounding them are four girls who talk and flirt with the handsome athletes. Deb stops ten feet behind the girls and drops her heavy, book-filled bag. The girls hear the crash and turn around. "I just need a minute, tops," Debbie tells them. They turn up their noses, glance at each other with disgust and revulsion, and walk away from Debbie as if she has the plague. Naturally, the guys aren't happy.

"Whatchya do that for?," Shawn asks.

"Relax, boys. Your groupies will be back. Especially if you win tonight against El Toro."

"If?," Shawn scoffs. "They lost to Viejo by ten. We beat Viejo by twenty. We're number one in the coaches' poll for a reason."

"Because El Toro always wins, and nobody likes a winner. Especially the folks they beat. And they've beaten us for eleven straight years."

"Since when were you a fan, Debbie?," Ryan asks. She walks to within three feet of him.

"Does it matter?," she asks. Shawn can tell this girl's trying to intimidate Ryan, which he thinks is utterly ridiculous.

"Yo Ry, this female got a beef with you?"

"Please. I barely know her." She glances to her right towards Shawn.

"He's right. Nothing personal." She puts her left hand to Ryan's throat and slams his back into the door and the back of his head into the roof.

"Damn girl! Why you trippin'?," Shawn exclaims. She reaches out her right hand, grabs his right wrist and twists it.

"Is that your shooting hand?"

"What the hell is your problem?" Deb sticks her right foot out and, sweeps his left leg outward and causes Shawn to fall on his face.

"The bigger they are . . . " Shawn gets up.

"That does it."

". . . the more they complain," she jokes. Shawn balls his left hand into a fist.

"I never hit girls. But wit you, I think I'll make an exception." Deb squeezes harder on Ryan's throat.

"Just go," he wheezes.

"Aw come on, Ry! You just gonna let some girl push you around?" Deb lets go of his throat, and a red-face Ryan stands up, gasping and coughing.

"I said go." Debbie turns around and looks up at Shawn.

"I think you should listen to your friend and fellow ringer who transferred here a couple months before you did." Shawn takes Ryan aside.

"Whassup with lil' miss psycho?," Shawn whispers.

"Dunno. But something is. Let it go. Catch up with the honeys. Tell 'em I'll be right there." Shawn shakes his head in bewilderment before walking away.

"Alone at last," Debbie says as she walks up to Ryan. He looks desperate to end this little meeting.

"What do you want?"

"Nice car. You parents buy it for you?"

"No. It was my dad's. He gave it to me when he bought his Jag."

"So he won't mind if I borrow it for a few hours?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Incentives. You'll get it back. After you win tonight."

"Say what?"

"You heard me."

"Deb, this is pretty low. Even by your standards."

"Did I just hear you insult me?" Deb gets some satisfaction out of making a guy more than twice her size quake in his boots. "I'll let that one slide. Wouldn't want to hurt our star center on the day of the big game."

"Deb, what I said, that was no insult. It's advice. You've lost it. You were living on the edge, but now you've fallen right over it."

"You're trying to help me. That's sweet. And guess what? I'm trying to help you. I'm giving you a reason to work harder, play better, get a few more highlights on the local news, catch the eyes of a few more scouts. Everybody wins."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Same reason you've dated half the cheerleaders. Because you can."

"You're sick. You know that?"

"I prefer to think of myself as a highly creative motivational therapist."

"And if we don't win? Then what?"

"Let's hope we don't have to find out. Relax Ry. I'm probably bluffing."

"If you're willing to do this, I'm not so sure."

"I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid. And I'm not eager to go to prison. The question is, what can I get away with? What will get you in trouble with mom and dad without getting me in trouble with the cops? You'd be amazed with how much a helpless-looking little girl can get away with." Ryan can't believe what he's hearing. And no one likes to be bullied.

"Why me? What did I ever do to you?"

"Why you? Cause you're lucky."

"Lucky? How does this possibly make me lucky?"

"I meant it the other way around, Ry. Now be a good boy." She holds out her right hand, palm facing up.

"Jesus Christ. I don't freakin' believe this."

"There are a lot of things in Southern California that you wouldn't believe. And all of them are a lot scarier than me." Ryan takes his keys out of his pocket and drops them in Deb's hand. "Don't need your house key. Or this one. Or this one."

"Actually, that's for the trunk," he tells her. Ryan's beginning to fall prey to the Stockholm Syndrome.

"You think I'm taking this thing grocery shopping?" She hands the three keys back to him. "Drive home, drive back. Four miles tops. If you don't believe me, check the odometer when you get it back."

"At least you can get home. And what am I supposed to do? Walk?"

"Take Shawn's ride. Or go with one of your fan club. A lucky guy like you always has options." She opens the driver's door.

"Stop calling me that while you're stealing my car. It's, it's sick." She sits down inside.

"I'd call it ironic. And true. Good luck, Ryan. I'll be rooting for you." She shuts the door, starts up the engine and drives away while Ryan catches up with Shawn and makes up excuses to hide the fact that he's just been victimized. Ryan may have felt angry, as well as a little sorry for himself. But he felt far sorrier for Debbie.

Lorne and Angel walk out of Angel's office. Angel gets his messages from Harmony. "Looking forward to your first big on-location assignment?," Lorne asks.

"Playing a high school student everyone wants to talk to and hang out with shouldn't be much of a stretch for me. But I have one small problem."

"What's that?," Angel asks.

"After lunch, I checked my calendar, and I realized that I'm supposed to meet Paris and Nicky for drinks at eleven."

"Drinks," Angel asks with trepidation. "Are they vampires?"

"Depends who you ask," Lorne jokes. "Don't sweat it. I'm meeting them for brunch in half-an-hour. I'll let them know you may be a little late."

"Brunch? Lorne, it's 4:15 in the afternoon," Angel points out.

"Granted, it's a little early for them. But they're always willing to lose a few winks in exchange for a free reading. Which, considering their vocal abilities, is no picnic. But their father pays this firm on a hefty retainer, and you can't say no to clients."

"Is their father a demon? Or a wizard of some sort?," a clueless Angel inquires, causing both Lorne and Harmony to laugh.

"You know Angel, you're no longer living in a hole in the ground. Start acting like it," Harmony jokes.

"I had no idea you knew them," Lorne confesses to Harmony.

"We met last month. I thought I saw someone attacking them, so I knocked him unconscious. Turned out he was a photographer. That pretty much scared the rest of the paparazzi away. Next thing I know, I'm their best friend. We hit a few clubs. I take care of a few jealous ex-girlfriends of the guys they've slept with. By the way, Shannon Doherty scratches. And bites. Bitch is lucky that I didn't bite her back."

"Last mont. Photographer," Lorne says as he thinks about this. "Wait. You're the smart blonde chick they mentioned to me."

"Wow! No one's ever called me smart before."

"Everything's relative," Lorne quips. "Compared to them, you're Albert Einstein."

"I, for one, think you're very intelligent," Angel assures her, thinking that Harmony fishing for a compliment.

"Boy, was that genuine," she comments.

"Oh deary," Lorne cautions, looking worried. "Paris asked me if I knew your old boyfriend. I'm praying that she wasn't referring to - "

"Who are these girls?," Angel asks again.

"Right now, I think it's best that you don't know," Lorne suggests. Angel goes back into his office. Lorne looks at Harmony. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going down to neurology to get a few memories erased."

When Deb gets home, she heads straight for her room. The shades are drawn, the lights off, and Devlin sits in front of her computer wearing only a pair of sweatpants. "What do we got here? Porn? Vampire chat room?," she jokes before putting her arms around him from behind, rubbing her hands against washboard abs, kissing him on the right cheek and resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Something just as graphic, if you use your imagination. Police blotters."

"Are you always this dull when I'm not around?"

"Of course. I don't like leaving you out of the fun. I spotted two suspicious killings from last night. One's is Chula Vista. "

"That's all the way down in San Diego," Deb complains.

"The more vampires you kill, the further they run away to feed."

"That's ninety minutes each way. Plus two or three hours waiting for the vampire to rise. Our evening's shot."

"Burial's tomorrow."

"There goes Saturday night. And how do you know they turned this one?"

"Simple. I'll hack into the coroner's office. Get a look at the pdf's of the autopsy report."

"All that'll say is neck trauma' and blood loss.' We already know that."

"I'm looking for the photos. If he's drained, the chest will be sunken. The blood loss is a lot less when a guy gets vamped. Plus, he gets part of that back from his sire. The ones who've been turned look normal. That's the giveaway."

"At least I don't have to break into the funeral home and open the casket."

"You're too old for that Nancy Drew crap."

"Where's the other one?"

"Corona."

"I miss when we could patrol graveyards in this county."

"It's only thirty miles east."

"And in the middle of nowhere. Even if the vamp made it out of the cemetery, he wouldn't be able to find anyone to bite."

"Could be worse. I've talked to guys who rose in the middle of North Dakota, or western Nebraska. In this country, it doesn't get much worse than rising in the prairie. Nothing but farms for miles. Everyone's inside their homes and out of reach. You can't steal a car cause they're all going seventy. If you're lucky, you get to a bar before closing time. Otherwise, you have to find a barn to hide out in until the the sun goes down again."

"I didn't know a vampire's life could be so precarious," Debbie jokes. "I mean, when they don't have me too worry about." Dev smiles and puts his right hand on top of her head, nudging her left cheek next to his right cheek. She puts her left hand on the left side of his face.

"We need an urban environment to provide shelter and food. Why do you think so many vamps come to South Cali despite the endless sunny weather? They love the sprawl. Thousands of miles of sewer lines to take you anywhere, anytime. Demon fighters run a gang out of a city, or even a whole county, and there's still an endless suburban frontier for them to hide out in. It's guerrilla paradise for the bloodsuckers."

"Nice use of the third person," she notes before sitting on his lap. "They? And what are you?"

"I've always liked people better than vampires. Even before I met you. Most of my kind are dreadfully dull."

"And why would that be? What do they lack that humans have? Oh, I know. A soul," she answers ironically.

"That's only part of it."

"So you admit that it makes a difference."

"Of course. But it's only half of the equation. If you lose the soul, and all you think about is feeding, then you've devolved into an animal. Lacking a soul is a necessary, but not a sufficient, condition."

"Are you stuck forever with all that college boy geek-speak?"

"Wasn't college. I already talked like that when I was your age."

"You really were a nerd."

"Still am. I've always been multifaceted."

"A regular renaissance vampire," Deb says as she stands up. He laughs at her joke. "Let's go watch tv."

"Anything on?"

"I was thinking of putting in one of our tapes. Something romantic."

Dev stands up. "Taxi Driver?"

"I'm serious."

"So am I. Love drives the whole plot. Okay, it's obsession. But he gets the girl in the end."

"How bout Casablanca?"

"Good pic. But Double Indemnity. Now that's romance."

"Guy gets seduced into killing a woman's husband?"

"Exactly! He risks everything. His career, his conscience, his life. It's like a Greek tragedy, with much better clothing and locations."

"Doesn't sound like the movie I saw. May it'll look different the second time around." Dev smiles. "Now put some clothes on." He frowns.

"Four words I dread hearing," he replies.

"You're getting too used to getting your way." She snaps a towel into his chest."

"Ow!" He puts on a Sonic Youth "Daydream Nation" t-shirt and follows her out of the room. "Deb, I got no problem being whipped. Long as you don't take it literally." She chuckles and walks up to him, putting her hands on his chest and pushes his back into the wall.

"I thought you liked it when I hurt you."

"Up to a point."

"Tell me when we reach it."

Spike walks into Angel's office around six. "I need wheels."

"You totaled another one?"

"No. Just got bored with it." He tosses Angel the keys.

"Which one would you like?," Angel forces himself to say politely, despite how annoyed he is with Spike's presence over a quibbling matter such as this.

"Yours."

"How typical."

"That a yes?"

"No."

"Fight you to the death for it?"

Angel laughs. "You're joking."

"What if I'm not?"

"Then you need to get a life. Why are you so content with my office, my friends, my vehicles? Doesn't living in my shadow bother you?" He's hoping this makes Spike fly off the handle so they can have a breakthrough which leads to Spike spending less time around Angel.

"Not possible. It's too bloody small." Angel's disappointed that Spike responded with humor. He opens a drawer, pulls out a set of keys and tosses them over.

"Corvette."

"That must be the '57." Angel picked the keys at random. "Perfect for a guy in a mid-life crisis. Or a, post-life crisis, as the case may be." Spike leaves and passes by Harmony's desk in the lobby.

"Spikey. I mean, Spike. Can I ask you something? It's about Devlin."

"You plan on chatting up the bloke?"

"No! What kind of an idiot do you think I am?"

"A very fetching one." Harmony tosses a pencil at Spike, the point entering his chest two inches to the left of his heart.

"Bloody hell! That was close. Someone can't take a joke."

"I know. I thought the pencil gag was really funny. Why didn't you like it?" Spike likes the attitude, and sits on the edge of her desk after pulling out the pencil and tossing it on the floor. "I wanted to know what to expect. What's he like?"

"Not me."

"How? He's totally following in your footsteps."

"Dev's low-key."

"You mean laid back? Cool as a cucumber?"

"And joined at the something to this Debbie girl."

"Nothing like a vampire becoming a slave to his mortal enemy. No offense."

He walks away from her, smiling away the insult. "I see you've still got some bite, Harm." Spike takes the elevator down to the garage and drives home, where he finds Devlin sitting on his couch. Deb's at her friend Cynthia's house for dinner, so he had some time to kill before the big game.

1,800 people are on their feet, about two-thirds cheering for the hometown Laguna Hills Cougars, and one-third cheering for the visiting El Toro Cowboys. 52.9 seconds remain on the clock. Cougars 70, Cowboys 75. When the time-out ends, the Cowboys prepare to take the ball out from under their own basket. Ryan looks to his right and sees Debbie in the crowd, dangling his car keys. He wipes the sweat from his forehead. Twenty nine points, twelve rebounds, four blocks. And still they had their backs to the wall. The Cougars try a full-court press. After some initial difficulty the Cowboys break the press and find their power forward streaking towards the basket all alone. Having stepped up to try to force a mid-court trap, Ryan races back as he sees the ball floating towards the open man. The forward takes the ball on the left side of the basket and tries a right handed lay-up to ice the game. But Ryan comes from out of nowhere and whacks the ball off into the backboard. The crowd roars at this spectacular rejection. A Laguna Hills guard races the other way and stops at the top of the key as if about to try a three. Instead, he sets up Shawn for powerful alley-oop jam from the right side of the basket. The crowd's on its feet, cheering them on. Forty seconds to go. Down by three. While trying to break the press and cross the half-court line, the Cowboys' guard steps his left foot on the sideline. The Cougars work to get the open three, but their best shooter misses. Ryan hustles to get the rebound, does a drop step to pivot around his defender and slams it home to pull the team to within one point with 15.2 seconds left. Cowboys call time-out. Their lead is rapidly slipping away. Laguna Hills just might pull off a miracle.

Debbie comes down from the bleachers and stands next to the doors under the Cougars' basket. Ryan can see her to his right. He is guarding the guy in-bounding the ball, putting his hands up and jumping up and down to try to block the passing lanes. Just before the officials were going to call the Cowboys for five seconds, he throws it in to Ryan's right. Ryan leaps over, grunts as he stretches out his right hand, and gets a piece of the ball. It misses its target and bounces towards the sideline. Shawn races up from midcourt and grabs it, leaping in the air as he goes out of bounds. Shawn saves the ball by passing it to Ryan, who's posted up fifteen feet from the basket on the right wing. The defense closes on Ryan. His small forward makes a back door cut towards the left side of the basket. Ryan hits him with a perfect no-look bounce pass. He leaps at the rim from head-on and reaches out his right hand to lay the ball in and give the Cougars the lead. But the ball bounces off the back iron. A giant "ohhh!!!" can be heard from the hometown side of the bleachers. Ryan cries out "NO!" as he lunges desperately for the rebound of what should have been a sure thing. He tips the ball, which ends up on the ground ten feet behind him. Two opposing guards struggle on the floor for possession. Jump ball. Arrow points in the Cougars' direction. 5.4 seconds left. Down by one. Coach calls time-out. Debbie heads out the door. She didn't even bother to see how it ended.

Outside, Devlin checks the bushes near the parking lot. "Fe, fi, fo, fum. Something wicked this way comes." Devlin is kicked in the back and goes down. When he gets up, he sees two vampires before him: the one who kicked him, and the one who had been hiding in the bushes. The one who kicked him is a beefy fellow who has four inches and sixty pounds on Devlin. The other vampire has two inches and thirty pounds on him. The bigger guy wears a studded leather jacket and dons a bandana atop his head. The vamp to his left wears a sleeveless leather jacket and has several tattoos on his well-developed arms. Both men wear brass knuckles on their right fist. "Cute look. Kind of a The Outsiders' meets Grease' theme. Am I supposed to feel intimidated?"

"No stupid. You're supposed to feel dead," the larger one says before throwing a right hook. Devlin steps to his left, watches the punch sail by and sweeps the vamp's legs, causing him to fall on his face. The second vampire steps up and throws a right cross. Devlin grabs his opponent's fist in his right hand and kicks him in the groin with his right foot. He follows that up with two left jabs and a right uppercut, putting the vamp on his back.

"Technically, when I'm dead, I'll feel nothing," Dev responds as the bigger vamp tackles him to the ground and pins his shoulders down. The vampire tries a right jab. Devlin moves his head to the left, and his opponent's bras knuckles slam into the pavement. Devlin pushes the vampire off of him and stands up. Just in time to get clotheslined by his other opponent's tattooed right arm. "Now that hurt," Dev says as he quickly gets to his feet and retreats before getting attacked from both sides at once. "It would have hurt more if I needed to, you know, breathe." They attack simultaneously. Dev circles left, keeping a step ahead. The vamp on Dev's right tries another haymaker right hook. Dev ducks and nails the guy's chin with a right uppercut. The vamp on Dev's left lands a left hook to Dev's face, knocking him back six feet. "Using the other hand. That I was not expecting. Would that make you the one with a brain?" He charges ahead of his partner. Dev ducks his left jab and blocks his right cross, pulling his right arm behind his back. "Apparently not." Devlin pushes the man in his back, sending him towards the bushes. A wooden stick shoots out of the shrubbery, impaling the stunned vampire. His partner knocks Devlin down with a left hook kick, only to get distracted by the sight of his buddy turning to dust. Devlin sweeps his legs out, putting the vampire on his ass as Devlin rises to his feet.

"We have some very unusual flora in this community," Devlin jokes as his opponent gets up. It's the smaller one with the tattoos, though he's still large enough to make any observer predict that he could toss Devlin up and down the parking lot. When his opponent attacks, Devlin fires back, staggering him with a leaping right roundhouse kick. Dev takes a left jab to the face, ducks a right cross and knocks his opponent back with a left spin kick to the chest. "This is getting wicked predictable."

"Slayer slave," his opponent sneers before trying a right roundhouse kick that Dev backs away from.

"That reminds me – I'm conducting a survey. Did you come here to feed, or to kill me for betraying my own kind?" The vampire takes out a stake in his left hand. "Bit of both, then?" He blocks the vampire's right hook by grabbing the guy's right wrist with his left hand. But that was only a diversion for the left thrust for Dev's heart. He takes hold of the stake when it's a foot from his heart, head-butts his opponent in the nose, and lands a right roundhouse kick to his chest. He staggers backwards a few steps, then notices the piece of wood sticking out of his chest. Devlin had knocked him into another one of his helpers, who snuck behind the unwelcome out-of-towner. "Was that what you were trying to do?," Devlin asks, making light of his opponent's failed attempt at misdirection. He turns to dust. Devlin's other vampire helper emerges from behind the bushes. They screw apart their saw-off pool cues and put them away in the carrying cases slung over their shoulders. "Good work, Luiz. Sweet timing, Paulie. They never knew what hit 'em."

"You think they'd have given up by now," Paul comments.

"Moth to the flame," Devlin responds. "But even the ones who are scared of Debbie think we're a bunch of patsies who rely on the humans for protection."

Luiz chuckles. "They got it backwards."

"Count your blessings. If every vampire did his homework before going on the warpath, the world would be a very different place." Dev looks at his watch. "Shouldn't the game be over by now?"

Ryan takes the inbounds pass on the right wing, just outside the three point line. He drives right, pivots round, takes a left dribble as he enters the lane and goes for the left-handed layup. It won't fall. But the whistle is blown. His defender hacked him, preventing Ryan from making the go ahead basket. Now he has to win the game at the foul line. One second remains on the clock. When he gets the ball in his hands, the crowd quiets. You could hear a pin drop. Ryan glances to his right, and notices that Debbie is gone. That seemed odd.

Debbie was in the team locker rooms, checking for unwelcome intruders. In the visitor's room, she stops in front of one locker and opens it. A vampire leaps out and grabs her. She slams the vamp's forehead into the lockers behind her, then tosses him to her left. He crashes into the wall and falls down. The vampire rises to his feet and makes a dash for the door thirty feet away. But Deb saw this coming, leaped after him and tackles the vampire from behind after he traveled all of ten feet. She gets on top of him, lands two right jabs, puts her right hand to his throat to hold him down, and takes her stake in her left hand. "The boys' locker room. Someplace that would be off-limits to me. I'm impressed." She stakes him and stands up. "As piles of dust go, you're pretty clever." Deb hears the crowd roar. "That must mean we won," she concludes before walking towards the shower area that connects both locker rooms just a few seconds before the stunned losers enter. When the jubilant winners walk into their locker room, Ryan sees his car keys dangling from the mesh front of his locker. That was a lot quicker than he expected.

After stepping outside, Deb spends a few minutes hooking up with her human friends. About fifteen minutes after the final buzzer sounded, they join Devlin, Luiz, Matthew and Sidney. "I'm amazed how many people bet on high school athletics," Dev tells her.

"How much?" He pulls out a thick wad of cash.

"Twelve hundred bucks. Here's your half."

"Half? I'm the one who made it happen," Deb complains as she puts the money in her left jacket pocket. Then she reaches her right hand for the cash he holds in his left hand, which he pulls back.

"Relax, love. Ya know I'm gonna spend most of my share on you, anyway."

"You better believe it," Deb jokes as she grabs Devlin's t-shirt, pulls him towards her and kisses him. Harmony slowly circles round them from thirty feet away. With the thousands of people milling around, there's no way they'll notice her from this distance. The first thought that occurs to Harmony is that, for a Slayer, Debbie seems to have an awful lot of friends. 


	7. Connor meets his first Slayer

While Angel's still figuring out how to get to Debbie, Connor gets to her first, meeting Devlin and Spike along the way.

On Monday morning, Harmony stands at the front end of the conference table, relishing this rare chance to be the center of attention. "Debbie's best friend is Cynthia. Cynthia's been dating Theo for about a year. He's friends with Diego. Danielle and Melanie ran with the same crowd Cynthia did. But they didn't become part of Debbie's little group until last fall. In other words, after Debbie flaunted her super powers. Last September she started beating up popular guys who picked on losers. I guess that's what they call anti-social behaviour. Soon she was muscling around anyone who got in her way. She has this whole I can do anything I want, what are you gonna do about it?' attitude."

"What about the vampires?," Angel asks.

"I'm getting to that," Harmony replies with obvious annoyance at his impatience. "I don't know when she met Spike's son – "

"Harm!," Spike objects.

"Sorry. The vampire Spike sired. And I don't know when they became a sick, unnatural couple. But they were first seen together at a Halloween Party. She'd been a Slayer for at least a month-and-a-half by then. But it was only after Halloween that people started seeing Debbie and her friends walking around at night looking like suspicious freaks."

"You mean patrolling for vampires," Wesley clarifies.

"What's the difference?," Harmony responds. "And it was in November that Devlin's college friends' started to show up. That's what the other kids call the vampires. There's a couple colleges within a few miles, and they all look around twenty, so it makes sense." Angel remembers when Buffy told Joyce that Angel was a student at the local community college.

"How many vampires?," Fred asks.

"Four. Counting the one Spike sired."

"Why do you keep bringing that up?," Spike complains.

"Sorry, Spikey. There's Devlin, of course. Plus Luiz, Paul and Sidney. Two guys and a girl. And here's the really disgusting part. They're all dating Debbie's friends. Sidney's with Diego. Luiz is with Donielle. And Paul goes with Melanie. Think about that."

"I'd rather not," Gunn replies, echoing Fred's and Wesley's sentiments.

"Let me finish. At the start of the school year, the three of them barely even know Debbie. Then they buddy up with supergirl, and two months later they're getting vampire tail."

"Was this before or after they saw Debbie staking vampires?," Angel asks.

"I guess they're open-minded when it comes to demons," Lorne quips.

"So open-minded their brains could fall out," Gunn concludes disparagingly. "They ain't ignorant. They know vampires are monsters who want to kill you. How do you decide you can trust a couple of them?" Spike and Angel look at Gunn. "That's different. Ya'al got souls."

"Or so they claim," Harmony retorts, shocking everyone with the depths or her supposed ditziness. "I'm serious. How do we know? Have we seen these souls? What proof is there?"

"They help protect humans," Wesley replies condescendingly.

"And they don't try to kill us," Fred adds.

"Exactly!" Everyone's embarrassed to realize that Harmony was mentally a step ahead of them. "Devlin and his friends don't bite people. And they kill other vampires."

"But first they would have gain these people's trust," Wes points out.

"Before the Slayer staked them," Gunn adds.

"Without being able to say I have a soul' or it's physically impossible for me to bite people.'" Fred looks at Angel and Spike. "How would you do that?" They think about this for a few seconds.

"Bloody good question," Spike concedes.

"They could have just lied," Angel guesses. "Then again, it doesn't matter why they trust these vampires. Only that they do. Good work Harmony." She smiles. "How did you get your information?"

"That was a problem. I had to schlepp my way to three keggers. These poor kids had nowhere to go and hang out. Did you know that most small towns don't have an all-ages club with a five dollar cover and live bands four times a week?"

Lorne laughs. "Why would they? Even in a big city like this, that's a surefire recipe for bankruptcy. You're in the poor house without liquor sales."

"I guess us Sunnydalers were lucky, at least in one way."

"Ya'al had a night club on Hellmouth?," Gunn asks. "Who ran it, a group of vampires?" Fred and Lorne laugh. Those who have been to Sunnydale don't quite get it. "Why the funny looks? A place for hundreds of tasty teens to go after dark? Were the vamps up there too stupid to take advantage of the no-hassle one-stop shopping?" Spike and Angel nod in agreement.

"It was very convenient," Angel concedes.

"I especially liked the shortage of parking," Spike recalls. "People had to walk a long way to get to their cars."

"Through a lot of poorly lit, deserted alleys," Angel adds. Wes, Gunn and Fred are becoming uncomfortable with their vampire champions' rehashing of times when they were evil. This makes Angel defensive. "I'm simply agreeing with you guys. It was a death trap. But there was never a massacre. Then the Bronze would have shut down. And no one wanted to kill the goose and lose the golden eggs." Angel feels the need to get back on topic. "Did you talk to any of Debbie's friends?"

"And give myself away? Are you crazy?"

"You've never met Debbie or Devlin. They have no reason to know you work for me."

"But what if they sensed I was a vampire? And who's to say Devlin doesn't know me? He knows about Spikey and Buffy. Maybe he also knows about my stormy, on-and-off relationship with his sire. Besides, who dishes their own dirt? I found out more about the Slayer from everyone else than whatever she would have told me about herself. Also, I'm now one of the most popular girls in Laguna Hills High School. And I don't even go there. Four football players asked me for my number. I didn't give it to any of them," she assures them. "I'm not desperate enough to drive forty miles for a date."

"A college party?," Devlin asks Debbie. It's the previous Saturday evening.

"My friend Judith invited me. You met her when she came home for Christmas Break."

"The pre-med?"

"Uh-huh."

"Where's she go?"

"USC."

"The University of Spoiled Children. That's a pretty long trip from here." Debbie laughs. "What's so funny?"

"You remembered her major, but not her school?"

"I see the forest for the trees. Mostly because I need their shade."

"She says we can spend the night at her place after the party. Is that a problem?"

"Not as long as she keeps her shades drawn. Windows on my Mustang are tinted dark enough so I can drive in the daytime. If we go up there, will you have time to finish your homework?"

Deb slaps Dev in the chest with the back of her right hand. "You are so beyond strange. What am I ever gonna do with you?"

"I have a few suggestions. All of which you probably wouldn't want to do in front of your friend."

"That's what I mean!," Deb says as she playfully chokes Dev with both hands. "One minute you're nastier than any bad boy. Then next you're squarer than any good boy."

"Will you be able to finish your work?"

"If I can't, you can always do some of it for me."

"I can do problem sets, and then you can copy them over in your own writing, but I can't do papers. They could tell right away that it wasn't your work."

"I have a history paper due Tuesday. And why do you care so damn much?"

"I want you to go to a good school. Get out of this place, and have a future. At some point you'll be too old for slaying."

"Really. When?"

"I don't think any of them have lived long enough to find out. Hopefully, you'll be the first." Debbie misses Devlin's thinly veiled threat against certain older, more experienced Slayers.

A few hours later, Spike's patrolling the Sunset Strip, looking for damsels to save, when he senses Devlin's presence five miles to the south. He gets in his car and drives off to see what the boy is up to. Meanwhile, Deb and Dev walk down the sidewalk toward the fraternity house. Dev wears black boots, black jeans and a tight black t-shirt. Deb wears tight black leather pants and a powder blue halter top. Dev's brown leather coat is draped over her shoulders. Though far from home, they still walk like they own the street. Being together gives each of them a feeling of invincibility. They walk through the front door of the packed house. Bob Dylan's "Like a Rolling Stone" blares out of the sound system.

"Judy!," Debbie shouts when she sees her old friend. They hug, ask each other how they've been. Then Debbie hangs Devlin's jacket in the coatroom while he heads over to the keg to get them some drinks. He notices Judith shadowing him. It's clear she has her suspicions. And she doesn't even know the half of it.

"Deb hasn't said much about you," she begins. "But what she does say makes it sound serious. Question is, are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I love her. I've never felt this way about anyone."

"You're what, twenty?"

"Nineteen. I know what you're thinking. I knew what you were thinking before you said a word. College guy, high school girl. I'm just looking to have my fun, then move on. Well I'm not. You grew up next door to Debbie. So you must know how incredible she is. I care about her more than you'd ever believe."

"Chill. You're not on trial. I'm not trying to protect her. Debbie's a tough girl. She can take care of herself."

"You have no idea," Dev replies with a smirk.

"It's been four months. If you were a jerk, she'd have figured that out by now."

"Thanks Judy. Now I'm trusted by friends of Debbie in two counties." Dev notices that Debbie's talking to some college boy. Right then, Dylan's "Highway 61" starts playing:

"God said Abraham, kill me a son.' Abe said Man, you must be putting me on.'"

A minute earlier, as she left the coatroom, Debbie saw a sad, sulking boy leaning against the banister. The skinny boy has pale blue eyes, soft red lips and thin brown hair overgrown in front and parted down the middle. He wears faded, worn-out blue jeans, a tattered gray t-shirt and a brand-new, unbuttoned blue polo shirt with the sleeves rolled partway up. His brand-new brown suede shoes look pretty expensive. "Typical preppy," Debbie thinks to herself. Someone without real problems who has the luxury of going despondent over something trivial. He finishes his beer, tosses the cup away, takes out a flask and gulps down a few ounces of whiskey. His pale cheeks are slightly reddened, as if he'd recently been crying. Devlin said Spike was like this right before Drusilla sired him. He was definite vampire bait. Or a potential suicide case. Helping people had become something of an instinct for Debbie. Even when monsters weren't involved. She walks over to the pathetic, vulnerable wretch.

"It's not the end of the world."

He scowls at her. "Who asked you?"

"Death in the family? Find out someone you love has cancer? Parent got laid off so you have to quit school and get a job to support your younger brothers and sisters?"

"Leave me alone."

"Or did some girl just dump you? You're young. You're cute. Shouldn't take too long for a handsome guy like you to find someone better."

He manages a small smile. Then he looks at Debbie again. The heart-shaped face. The delicate features. The flowing curls. That knockout body. She's beautiful. God, is she beautiful. And she's coming on to him! "Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. Thanks for coming over to cheer me up, umm, what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. It's Debbie." She holds out her hand. He shakes it, grins and stares into her big green eyes.

"I'm John. But my friends call me Connor."

"Why? Is that your middle name?"

"It's my last name."

Debbie laughs. He looks embarrassed. "You're name's John Connor?" She can tell he gets this all the time.

"My parents swear they hadn't seen the movie."

"So you're not actually a messianic hero destined to save humankind," she jokes.

"I hope not," he jokes back. "Cause if that's what I'm supposed to be, we're screwed." They both laugh.

"So who was the girl?"

"She wasn't just a girl. Tracey was the only girl. We went out for three years."

"Are you a freshman?"

"What do you think?"

"This sorta thing happens to everybody."

"Not to us. I go to USC. She goes to UCLA. We're five minutes apart. We saw each other all the time. Everything was great. Then last night, I go over to her place, as she's with another guy."

"In bed? Naked?"

"On the couch. With clothes on."

"Count your blessings. Coulda been worse."

"They were kissing. He was on top of her. His hands were all, argh!!!" John punches the railing. Debbie's expecting it to break, then remembers that he doesn't have super powers.

"Like I said."

"It's more than Tracey. High school was great. I was happy for, like, my whole childhood. I don't remember ever not being happy. Things always seemed to go my way."

"You were lucky. Or, maybe you were cursed."

"I'm beginning to think it's that second one. Ever since I came here, things have been different for me."

"Isn't college supposed to be like that? Everyone has trouble with a couple classes freshman year."

"School's not the problem. My grades are okay. It's all the other stuff."

"Sounds to me like Tracey was your problem. Now that she's gone, you can find the solution." John smiles at Debbie. His heart races. Watching all this as he walks over with three beers in his left hand is Devlin. This live college boy has taken a keen interest in his girl. He was easy on the eyes. A little effeminate, perhaps. Then again, some people used to say the same thing about Devlin. He takes a beer in his right hand, comes up to Debbie from behind and puts his right arm around her shoulders. She takes takes the drink in her right hand, looks up at Devlin and kisses him on the lips. John Connor's heart sinks into his socks. "What took you so long?," Deb asks.

"I thought I should pick up something for your new friend."

"How mature." She assumed he'd be jealous of this new boy. Dev knows that it's best to mask jealousy with magnanimity so as not to give the other guy any satisfaction. Deb takes another beer in her left hand and hands the cup to John. He takes it, mutters thanks to Debbie, but doesn't make eye contact with Dev.

"Cheers, mate," Devlin tells John with a smirk and an outstretched glass. (The early years when he emulated Spike had left their mark.) Connor doesn't reciprocate the toast, but instead starts chugging. "Bottoms up, then." Dev follows suit. They both finish their beers in a matter of seconds. "Not bad for a freshman." Devlin and Connor are the same height and about the same build, though Dev's a lot more chiseled, a difference that isn't very noticeable when they're fully-clothed. Devlin's eyes are brown, his hair's a little thicker, his nose a tad bigger, his chin more prominent and his cheekbones less so. Other than these minor differences, the two of them look an awful lot alike.

"John, this is my boyfriend, Devlin," Debbie tells him as Dev puts his arms around her waist and she rests her head against his chest. Having not expected Connor to fall for her, she doesn't mean to antagonize him with their routine boyfriend-girlfriend behavior.

"Nice to meet you, John. What's your major?" Debbie takes his hands in hers, pulls them out to the side, leads his right hand to her waist and lets go of his left hand. He puts his right hand on her back. This less overt display of affection is proportionately easier for Connor to take.

"Philosophy."

"Cool. I've always liked that stuff. Being and nothingness and how can we prove our lives are real. Who's your favorite philosopher?

"I don't know." John thinks that's a stupid question. "Plato. Maybe Schopenhaur."

"I'll give you extra points for not following the herd and saying Nietzsche. Me, I've always liked Kierkegaard. Have you read Fear and Trembling'?"

"Have you read anything else of his?," John asks derisively, certain that Devlin's a callow pseudo-intellectual.

"I like Either/Or.' Not all one thousand pages, but certain passages: There is so much talk about man being a social animal, but basically he is a beast of prey, something that can be ascertained by looking at his teeth.'" Devlin smiles at John. Debbie worries he's going to do something macho and foolish, like show this boy his real teeth to scare him off.

"Wanna dance?," she asks nervously.

"With you? Always. Except to Fatboy Slim. Him I have to conscientiously object to." Debbie seriously thinks of asking Connor to dance and make Dev jealous, but decides not to lead the boy on. "So John, do you agree with Soren? Is killing your son because God tells you to do it really the highest expression of faith?"

Connor's smashed, which, on top of him not liking Devlin and being filled with a burning rage about why this great girl is with such a loser, makes it extremely difficult for him to engage in serious conversation. "I think he was making a bigger point about how religion is not compatible with reason," he manages to slur out.

"Which is why he prefers religion. But you know what that story makes me think about? Ishmael. He was also a miracle child. But once Isaac comes along, big brother's gotta go. All because his momma's not the woman daddy truly loves. And then Abraham and Sarah and all their friends pretend Ishmael never even existed. Talk about a raw deal."

"What the hell does that have to do with Kierkegaard?"

"It shows that life's unfair. I think he'd agree." Connor wonders why he's talking to this wiseass. Then he remembers: because he's got a massive jones for the jerk's girlfriend. Which only made the whole scene even more painful and humiliating. The song ends. Deb takes Dev's right hand in her left hand.

"Can we go now?"

"I guess I'll dance to Moby. But only under protest." Deb shakes her head. Dev can be so ornery sometimes. She chugs about a third of her beer, hands the cup to Connor, gives him a friendly smile and heads out onto the dance floor with her boyfriend.

"What was that all about?," she asks Devlin.

"Just me being friendly; making small talk."

"You call that small talk?"

"I also call fighting for our lives a date."

"I thought you call that foreplay?," she asks seductively as they inch closer. Connor watches with narrowed eyes and clenched jaw. He's never felt this sort of primal fury before. He catches a look at her bare back. And Devlin's hands on her skin. Debbie is beautiful, sweet, funny. Powerful and confident in a way John can't quite put his finger on. What the hell was she doing with this asshole? Touching him. Pressing her body against his. Letting him run his fingers through her hair. And all the while, smiling as if this unworthy fool made her happy. He wants to rip Devlin's head off and kick his stupid, happy face down the street. Just imagining doing this gives him a visceral thrill. John's never fantasized about taking a life. It scares the small part of him that's still sober. Connor downs the rest of Debbie's beer, throws the cup on the floor, turns around and storms out of the house.

Spike stands outside the building he's tracked Devlin to. This is a long way for Dev to go for a party. Spike looks up and down the street at the drunken students walking this way and that. Perfect targets. He temporarily forgets the original reason he's there and goes into life-saving hero mode. Connor staggers onto the sidewalk. He stops to take a long swig out of his flask. Then he heads to the corner, turns right and weaves down a dark, secluded street. Kid's practically gift-wrapped. Here's someone Spike has to look out for. As he walks after his potential damsel, Connor leans over to puke on the grass and dry heave a few times. Then he continues walking, finishes off the flask and throws it against the side of a building. As he closes with Connor, Spike tries to guess his damage. "Did she say you could still be friends? For me, that was the worst bloody part." Connor turns to his left to look at the stranger walking beside him.

"Sorry pal. Not interested. I don't swing that way." Spike's horrified to realize that the young man thinks he's being propositioned.

"Well, bloody hell! Neither do I."

"Yeah right. You met me in a dark alley late at night just to talk?" Actually, Spike came to walk him home, but he realizes this sounds even worse.

"I remember the last time I got this pissed. Trust me, it's her loss. She'll be miserable without you. And you'll find someone even better."

"With a sweet smile, smoking hot body, cute little tattoo, eyebrow ring, navel piercing. A good girl who you just know could get a little wild. Meeting her was the easy part. Now I gotta beat up her self-important, idiotic, the-world-revolves-around-me jackass boyfriend." Connor punches the trunk of a palm tree in frustration.

"Trust me, that always backfires. Makes her mad at you. Brings the two of them closer together while she nurses him back to health and you're stuck in a wheelchair."

"Then you could do it for me," Connor suggests before laughing. "You don't look so tough. But he looks even wussier. And then you can get lost and leave me alone."

"Cuz you can take care of yourself on these mean streets. It's hunting season out here, and you're bloody Bambi."

"You think I'll get mugged?"

"If you're lucky."

Connor squints, staggers over to Spike, smacks his right hand into the top of Spike's head, then pushes his left shoulder. "You're real." He backs away and giggles some more. "You know, you're supposed to dilute the peroxide first. Unless that's how you wanted it to look." Connor turns around and resumes weaving his way home. Spike keeps his distance, but follows him just to make sure. Then he heads back to check in on his boy. Inside, he finds Devlin with Debbie and her friend Judith, whom Spike didn't recognize. Dev was too focused on Deb to notice Spike, who kept to the shadows. Dev was dressed just like Spike, minus the coat. Had his hair just like Spike's, minus the bleach. But it was Debbie who really caught Spike's eye. When they met the other night, a jacket covered the tattoo on her right upper arm. And for obvious reasons, she didn't wear her piercings when patrolling. Spike laughs. The drunken sad sack Spike was trying to relate to and protect, he was in love with a Slayer. And jealous of Spike's offspring to boot. Poor unlucky bastard.


	8. Dev gets bold, Deb gets curious

[Devlin makes a foray into Wolfram & Hart to meet Harmony, talk with Angel and battle the building's crack security force. Debbie agrees to spend an evening with Angel, while Fred gets a chance to pick Devlin's brain.]

Angel begins his Monday afternoon with employee evaluations. "Now, Griffin - "

"Please, Griff. Mister Angel."

"Griff. It's clear that your management of our firm's assets has been exemplary ever since you succeeded to that position five quarters ago. You've had us outperforming most investment banks, and at a fraction of the commissions they'd charge."

"I hope you noticed that since you took the helm I have refrained from all illegal and quasi-illegal uses of insider information and/or offshore tax shelters."

"I appreciate that. It's good to know you're smart enough to make a buck without cheating."

"It has lowered our returns by five percent, which I've termed the Virtue Premium.' There are plenty of men and women who would be willing to toss aside virtue and bring in higher profits for a lower salary than I command. I appreciate your support in resisting such usurpations."

"Is that your fancy way of trying to ask me for a raise? Sounds like you want your own Virtue Premium'." Griff laughs nervously.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Because you're SO ethical."

"No. Because the head of my department is in charge of my remuneration. You may be able to fire me, but it's outside of your power to give me a raise." Angel feels chagrined, then wonders if Griff's making this up to cover his tracks. He decides to drop the matter entirely and looks once again at the man's evaluation.

"Wesley attached a note about a theory of yours he thought I'd be interested in hearing."

"Not mine. Robert Lucas's. Rational Expectations. It won him the Nobel Prize for Economics."

"Now why would Wesley think I would be interested in something like that? Come to think of it, why would Wesley be interested in it?"

Devlin steps out of the elevator. He wears a navy blue pinstripe suit, a blue shirt, a yellow tie and a black bowler hat. He carries an umbrella in his right hand. As he walks over to Harmony, he takes off his hat. His hair is parted down the center, making him look more like a fresh-faced schoolboy than a vicious killer. She looks up at him. "Can I help you?"

"I have an appointment with Angel."

"You do. When?," she asks dismissively before checking Angel's schedule.

"Whenever he's finished with his current appointment."

"I'm sorry. Angel is a very busy man. He can't fit you in today. But if you want to leave me your name and number - "

"That won't be necessary, Harmony." He smiles at her and sits on the far edge of her desk. "I bet guys like me waiting to see the boss must hit on you all time. How many guys ask for your phone number each day? Five? Six?" Harmony smiles bashfully. She's not used to such overt flattery.

"Most of Angel's meetings are with demons. Ugly, slimy, tentacled demons. It's very rare that a halfway-attractive guy like yourself stops by."

"You mean they don't make up lame excuses to come up here and pay you a visit?"

"You mean stalkers," she jokes. They both laugh. "I guess I've had a few of those in my time."

"I get it, now. They're afraid of a certain ex-boyfriend of yours who happens to roam the halls. He may play it cool, but I have no doubt Spike would be consumed with jealousy if he say you with another man."

Harmony pauses for a few seconds, then smiles. "Very smooth, Devlin," she calmly announces. "Changed the hair. Put on a suit. Is this your idea of dressing for success?"

"It's clearly not my idea of blending," he responds, flipping his hat up onto his head and grabbing his umbrella. "You look much too stunning to blend. I like to think I do as well."

"Spike said you'd try to be charming."

"You find me charming?"

"I said TRY." Dev chuckles.

"Come on, Harm. If anyone else was my sire - "

"You'd probably be even more of a loser."

"That's cute," Dev responds with a smile. "Playing hard to get because you know I'm being facetious."

"Yeah. Among other things. By the way, I should warn you, by being here you're risking instant death."

"I like the danger. And I love catching people by surprise." He backs away, looks around and spins his umbrella in his right hand. "When do you expect Angel to be done in there?"

"The essence of Rational Expectations Theory isn't economic. It's psychological. People can't be fooled the same way twice. You keep using the same trick, and they'll be prepared for you. I think this applies as much to mystical curses as it does to inflationary monetary policy." Angel looks up at the ceiling and groans.

"I don't believe this."

"Hear me out, Mister Angel. You lost your soul when you were unaware of the Curse. That can never be the case ever again. You engage in the same behavior, the Curse will constantly be on the back of your mind. This persistent worry, this everpresent dread, will prevent you from ever achieving perfect happiness. The Curse cannot be broken if you know of its existence."

"You're trying to apply economics to the metaphysics of my soul?"

"Not economics. Psychology. I understand if you'd be unwilling to put my hypothesis to the test, but I felt it was my duty, as a loyal employee, to inform you of it. And Mister Wyndham-Price agreed with me."

"He has his own views on the subject."

"Which, by the way, I happen to disagree with. In my opinion, his ideas are based on dangerously subjective semantics."

"He talked about this with you? This is a private matter!"

"In practice, yes. In theory, no. And I'm only talking theory."

"You and I, we have a lot in common," Devlin says to Harmony.

"You mean Spikey."

"No," he responds with a laugh. "Cute nickname, though. I meant our embrace of abstinence." Harmony looks a tad insulted. "From human blood." Now she understands. "What induced you to give up the hunt?"

"Well, ughh, there's the money, of course. And the stability and the friends and all the other things that come with a steady job."

"A place in the world."

"Yeah. Plus, I don't have to worry about getting staked."

"Good point. These days, you never know when a Slayer's about to pounce on you."

"Isn't that why you gave up killing?" It takes Dev a second to get it, but then he smiles.

"Good one. So how come a gorgeous, witty woman like yourself is still single?"

"You're not looking to set up another one of her friends?"

"Someone's done her homework. And no. I'm not. Even if I were, I doubt you'd like the relocation to exurbia. You strike me as the type who's more at home in the excitement of the big city."

"What gave you that idea, Einstein? The fact that I'm living in one?," she tartly responds.

"Love the attitude, Harm. Tell me, are you always this much fun, or do I just bring out the best in you?" Griffin walks out of the office. Harmony gets on the speaker phone.

"Angel, there's someone here to see you. A vampire." Angel, already disturbed by Griff's suggestions, pops his head out of the office. Perfect. More aggravation. 

"What do you want?," he asks Devlin.

"What do you want?"

"Not to have my time wasted." Angel slams the door. Devlin enters the office, placing his umbrella and cap on top of a filing cabinet to his left. Angel ignores him.

"What? No attempt to kill me?"

"You're hardly worth the effort."

"Not right now. But one day you may regret letting me walk out of here alive." Angel shoves Dev into the door.

"You have five seconds to give me a reason not to throw you out the window behind me."

"You'd have to find a new office until the glass was replaced." Angel slugs the smartass in the stomach, grabs a pencil and goes for the heart. Dev grabs Angel's right hand with both of his hands, keeping the point three inches from his chest. "I see you've found a cheaper method of doing away with me," Devlin comments before head-butting Angel in the nose and pushing him back. Angel lands a right hook to Dev's face, blocks Devlin's right hook with his left arm and nails Dev's nose with a right jab. Devlin backs away, straightens his tie and unruffles his suit. "And to think, I came here in peace." He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small olive branch. "Debbie would like to meet with you. Tonight, at eight. Her house. I'm sure you've figured out where that is. She's willing to give you three hours of her time. And do bring Winifred Burkle. Just in case you get the urge to kidnap and save' the poor, wayward girl."

"And you came all this way to tell this because you wanted to impress me by breaking into my offices in broad daylight?"

"Not impress. Merely surprise."

"You did neither."

"Saving money by cutting back on security? Or is it just you way of showing everyone how tough and fearless you are?"

"Eight O'Clock. And if you try anything with Fred - "

"I know. You'll kill me."

"No. She will." Devlin grins.

"I really like that in a woman. Something the two of us have in common, eh Angel?" He takes his hat and umbrella and leaves. Once in the lobby, he runs his left hand along Harmony's right cheek, startling her. He lifts up her chin so she's looking him in the eyes. "I hope the pleasure wasn't all mine," he says with a smirk before walking towards the elevator. Harmony knows it's probably an act, but she relishes the attention nonetheless.

Down in the parking garage, Dev senses company. He smiles. "I've been waiting for you," he announces, his voice echoing through the cavernous concrete space. He runs to his right and hides in the eighteen inch space between the back of an Escalade and the wall. He listens for his pursuers. They have him surrounded on three sides and are slowly tightening the noose, carefully keeping out of sight. If they were pros, by the time he saw one of them, the rest would be on top of him. Six cars over, fifty feet to his right, Dev catches sight of a black-clad commando's tranq gun. He points his umbrella at the chap and lets off a .22 caliber round. The man grunts in pain as the bullet enters his chest through his right armpit. Another fighter thirty feet to Dev's left fires a dart. Dev spins to his right so he ends up on the passenger's side of the vehicle. The dart sails behind him. As he spins, Dev pushes another button that shoots a six inch-long knife out the end of his umbrella like a little bayonet. He shoves it through the mouth of the man who was coming right for him, a stake in his right hand and a taser in his left. The commando on the driver's side of the vehicle realizes where Dev is, and waits for the vampire to make his next move.

He does so almost immediately, grabbing his bowler hat in his left hand. To his right, a man in the traffic lanes between the rows of cars fires. Dev leaps forward, does a somersault to elude the dart, then throws his hat from a kneeling position. It sails sideways, slicing off the shooter's right arm just below the elbow. He screams. Before standing up, Dev points the umbrella at the man who was on the other side of the car and is now trying to sneak up on the vampire from behind. Without looking, Dev shoots him square in the chest at point-blank range. He then rushes into the opposite row of cars to take cover and wait for the remainder of the enemy to show themselves. The two remaining fighters are now on his right. He moves in that direction, keeping the cars between him and them. He hears two men whispering. They can't understand how the vampire got a gun into the building. (They may no longer have vampire detectors, but they do have surveillance cameras with scanners that detect unauthorized firearms and automatically alert security. This makes much more sense to them, since a man with an AK can cause far more carnage far more quickly than a vampire with fangs.) Not sure how heavily armed Devlin is, they call for backup. One of them fires plastic bullets towards Dev's position to neutralize him while the other runs over to check on the other men. The shots force Devlin to stay hunkered down. He spots the shooter forty feet in front of and ten feet to the right of himself. The man's protected by adjacent parked cars if Dev tries to shoot him and easily able to hit Dev if the vampire tries to make a run for it before backup arrives.

Devlin fires straight ahead, taking out the window of a Mercedes two parking spots to the right of where the commando's hiding. As he hoped, the car has an alarm, and it starts blaring. This distracts the fighter for the three seconds it takes Dev to rush towards him, attack the man from the left and slit his throat with the makeshift bayonet. As the dead man falls on his face, the last healthy commando drops to his knees and fires from sixty feet away. Dev drops to his stomach and puts a bullet into the man's upper left thigh, four inches from his groin. The fighter falls on his side and cries out in pain as Devlin runs to grab his hat, which lies twenty feet beyond the fellow he amputated, who by now has passed out from shock. Dev reaches down, picks it up, puts it on, retracts his bayonet and rushes into the sewers only seconds before a half-dozen more security paramilitaries arrive to view the slaughter. While underground, Dev takes out a handkerchief and wipes the blood off the brim of his hat and the end of his umbrella. Five blocks to the west, Devlin emerges out of a manhole cover in an alley, holding the unfurled umbrella above his head for shade. He walks one-and-a-half blocks south to a parking lot and gives the attendant a ten-spot for a five dollar stay, hoping this will deflect any questions as to why he's carrying an umbrella on a sunny day. The man brings up his car, Devlin gets in and drives off. He rather enjoyed the attempt on his life. Anything to brighten up an otherwise dull afternoon.

"You attacked him!! Without my permission!," Angel exclaims to the frightened security chief standing on the other side of his desk.

"It's our standing order not to allow demonic intruders to escape from the building. We destroyed four in the past week alone."

"Why wasn't I informed about any of this?"

"We didn't want to waste your time. Most intrusions are for petty reasons that have nothing to do with you."

"You engaged in a firefight in the parking garage. What about innocent bystanders?"

"There were none. And he was the one firing lead rounds. Even though no gun was detected on his person."

"Because he was firing out of," Angel shakes his head incredulously, "an umbrella."

"My men were severely traumatized by their injuries. But each and every one of them confirmed this detail."

"And he had a hat like the guy in Goldfinger.'"

"I know it sounds silly, but it did take off one of my men's arms. Which is not silly."

"Was our medical staff able to reattach it?"

"Unfortunately, some of the dirt on the floor of the garage seeped into the severed limb, and it became infected."

"How many men did you lose?," Angel asks, using the second person to communicate his inherent estrangement from a force that's a holdover from the bad old days.

"Two dead. Four injured. Three severely. One critical."

"Were these men experienced?"

"They were among my best. Followed standard procedure. Acted with utmost caution."

"And still, this punk splattered the floor with them."

"We were unaware of his unorthodox weaponry."

"And if you were aware?"

"We would have gone in with a larger force, isolated the intruder and waited him out."

"In the future, I'll be sure to alert you about hazardous and save your men from these sorts or dangers," Angel replies condescendingly. "You can leave now." The man hangs his head low and walks out. Spike walks in, looking far too happy.

"Heard your men in black had a bad afternoon, thanks to my boy."

"You sound proud."

"Wouldn't you be? Besides, I thought these soldiers of evil he took out were the enemy."

"He had a tricked-out umbrella."

"The Avengers.' Dev was a big fan."

"I can think of at least three or four people off the top of my head who could build that for the right price."

"He put it together himself. Clever piece of work. The canopy contains two layers of kevlar with a paper-thin sheet of titanium in between. Stops crossbows from twenty feet and bullets from forty. Saw him test it myself. Dev's a very bright boy. Always full of surprises."

"He likes gadgets?," Angel asks disparagingly.

"Not especially. But he has a knack for being prepared for whatever scrape he might find himself in."

"Yet another way he doesn't take after you."

"Why should he? What use did I have for a lesser me? Dev learned pretty quick to be my compliment. To compensate for my supposed weaknesses."

"That's how he made himself useful to you. But now he's on his own. No longer the sidekick."

"And he's trying to outdo me." Angel mulls this over.

"You really think that's what he's up to?"

"Unfortunately."

Debbie checks her hair in the mirror in the foyer. She wears black jeans and a white turtleneck sweater. Devlin walks up to her from behind. "Careful. You don't wanna look too good. That might give him the wrong idea." Deb jumps slightly when she turns around and sees Dev. She's still not used to fact that her boyfriend can be standing three feet behind her and still be invisible in the mirror.

"Wouldn't wanna look too grungy, either. Then he might think I'm living in squalor and take even more pity on me. That would also give him the wrong idea. I'm not living in squalor. Just living in sin." She laughs weakly at her own joke and then sighs. The fact she's shacking up with an older man is the least sordid part of their relationship, morally paling in comparison to the fact that he's soulless and undead.

"I know a thing or two about sin. If being with me is you're biggest one, you're on the fast track to Heaven, Deb." She fiddles with his bangs with her right hand. He's still wearing the pinstripe pants and open-collared blue oxford shirt from that afternoon. "You like the new look?," he asks her.

"It's cute. Kinda like choirboy meets investment banker. Reminds me a little of what you would have looked like if you had a chance to grow up, graduate from college, get a fancy job." They both look somber and share a few seconds of serious silence.

"Then you never woulda met me." Deb closes her eyes, grimaces and buries her head in his chest. Dev puts his arms around her.

"When did life become so complicated?," she asks rhetorically. Deb recognizes that Herman/Devlin becoming a vampire was an awful thing. But she also knows that if he hadn't, she'd be dead. Everything about Devlin is wrong. And yet she loves him. It's all a bit much for a girl to deal with. Devlin understands. He holds her for a while, then gently kisses her forehead.

"Since forever. Least it's a little nicer for a lotta people, thanks to you." Deb smiles and wraps her arms tightly around Devlin's torso. This is her one consolation. Because to her, Devlin's not killing. Because to him, she's a moderately-skilled Vampire Slayer. The world would be a worse place if they had never met. They hear Angel's car pull into the driveway.

"That's my ride," she says, letting go of him.

"Right on time. I had a feeling he'd be punctual."

"Are you sure you're alright with this?"

"Absolutely, love. It's like a Superpower Summit. A chance for the leaders to get together, talk things over, keep the lines of communication open. It prevents misunderstandings. Keeps them from accidentally nuking each other."

"You make me sound so important," she replies with a playful smirk. The doorbell rings.

"Time to go meet with the leader of the Evil Empire," he jokes. She walks over to the door and looks out of the peephole.

"It's a woman."

"Time for my date," Dev kids. "How do I look?" Deb picks up a small stake and gently pokes his chest.

"Don't tempt me," she warns with a mischievous grin.

"No fair. You always tempt me," he insolently replies. She leans her head up and they smooch for a few seconds before the doorbell rings again.

"Dev, it's been great while it lasted, but I think it's time we started seeing other vampires," she sarcastically declares as she opens the door. "Hey. You must be Fred."

"You must be Debbie," Fred nervously replies as she sizes up the Slayer. Deb hands her the stake.

"Just in case," she says with a smirk before walking out to Angel's Viper. He didn't bother to get out and suffer the indignity of Devlin taunting him with the fact he can't come inside. She gets in, and he takes off. "A sports car. Good thing it's not red, or I'd think you're having a mid-life crisis."

"Nice to see you too, Debbie."

"Look, I don't mean to diss. It's just, ya know, - "

"A defense mechanism?"

"My way of making small talk. Guess a powerful guy like you isn't used to people busting his balls. I may have taken some cheap shots the other night when we met. But I didn't mean anything by it. You came to my turf. I wanted to make sure you were on the defensive. I know you're here to help, chocked full of good intentions and all that."

"Usually the Good Cop and the Bad Cop are played by two completely different people," Angel quips.

"Friend or foe. When I feel threatened, I scratch and snarl. When I know I'm safe, I can be nice and sweet and domesticated."

"I understand your suspicion."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Skip the empathy. So where we goin'?"

"Nice, quiet spot on the coast just across the San Diego County line. Perfect for walking and talking."

"Or killing," she jokes.

"I guess I'll just have to trust you," Angel replies in jest. Things seem to be going quite well quite quickly. They're developing a lively, casual repartee. Angel decides to get down to business. "So Debbie. What was it like when you first discovered your powers?"

Back at the house, things aren't quite so chummy. Fred and Devlin stand on opposite sides of the living room. "Let me take you coat," Dev suggests as he walks towards her. Fred quickly backs away.

"That's okay. I can do it myself." She walks into the foyer, takes off her jacket and heads back into the living room, standing at the front edge of the room, frozen like a stature, fifteen feet from the demon who could easily attack her.

"Don't worry. I won't bite." Dev chuckles, but quickly stops when he realizes Fred doesn't get the joke. She isn't used to the concept of a vampire without a soul who would choose not to kill. Angelus was certainly nothing like that. Sure, Devlin hasn't bitten Debbie. But she sleeps with him. And Fred's not about to put out to save her neck. "I'm around people all the time," he assures her. "Why would I kill the one person with friends and co-workers who could dust me very quickly?"

"Mutually assured destruction," she cheerfully concludes. "I can get with that." Dev sits on the couch.

"You're not going to stand for three hours?" She looks around in vain for a chair. "Come on," he pleas. "I'm almost beginning to feel insulted. Am I that repulsive?" Fred looks down at the stake in her right hand, grips it tightly (not because she's genuinely afraid, but as a sort of security blanket) and walks over to the couch, sitting down to Dev's right. "Haven't had a first date this awkward since high school." She laughs weakly at his joke. "How far do you and Spike go back?"

"Just to last summer. When he showed up here rather suddenly."

"When he came back incorporeal." She looks suspicious, wondering how he knows this. "Spike told me. Didn't tell me much else, though. Are you two close?"

"Not terribly. But we spent some time together when he was a ghost and I was tryin' to figure out how to make him solid again."

"You cared about him."

"He has a soul. He saved the world. No one else seemed to care. I kinda pitied the poor guy."

"I pity him too," he quips, upsetting Fred, since she knows he pities Spike for very different reasons. "You must be at least the slight bit curious about his past. And, by extension, about my past with him. Now's your chance. Anything you wanna know?" Dev sighs. "Or, failing that, anything Angel might want to know?"

"Don't get me wrong. I'm curious. You're certainly an unusual specimen."

"How clinical. I feel like I'm about to be probed," he self-deprecates. She's beginning to get an inkling of his inner geek.

"Your birth name was Herman. How did you get the name Devlin?"

"That's a very good story. It was eleven nights after I rose. I had convinced Spike to come along with me to my hometown of Fairlawn. It's a cozy little suburb just outside of Akron and thirty miles south of Cleveland."

NEXT: Dev tells Fred some revealing and unsettling stories about the Spike he knew. Meanwhile, Debbie recounts her personal history to Angel. Plenty of exciting flashbacks to help fill in the narrative.


	9. Spike does the Devil's work

Old school Spike tries to show his rebellious new charge the ropes back in 1977.

"I gave Spike directions to my family home at 14 Haverhill Road. It was a large white Colonial with green shutters, set back a good distance from the street. There was a big old oak tree in the front yard I used to climb when I was younger. By the way, would you like something drink? I should have asked before."

"No. I'm fine," Fred replies, annoyed by his transparent attempt to stall right before the interesting part.

"Okay. Want a smoke?"

"I don't."

"Neither did I when I was human." He decides not to light up in front of Fred out of courtesy. "It was the Friday night before Thanksgiving. My parents were unaware of my death. I had remained in contact with them, keeping up the pretext that I was still in school. Spike laughed at this, as he did at many of my action."

"Ten hours on the road," Spike complains. "And I have to wear these bloody stupid clothes. Your folks better be delicious."

"Oh, quit your whining," Herman responds. "I only made you put on a clean shirt and comb your hair." Spike wears black jeans, a blue button-down shirt, and has his hair slicked-back and gelled close to his scalp, making him look considerably less punkish than usual. Devlin's short hair is dyed blonde and combed flat down, neither parted nor slicked-back. His short bangs dangle over the top of his forehead. He wears light brown corduroy pants and a red and brown striped button-down shirt with a butterfly collar. "Anyway, don't you like artifice? Pretending to be something you're not? That's half the fun."

"Not for me. Fighting's half the fun. Killing's the other half."

"Which boils down to what? Winning. The more you plan, the more you deceive, the greater the victories you can achieve."

"I thought I was the bad poet," Spike jokes. Herman laughs.

"And I wasn't even trying to rhyme. But my point's deadly serious. Brute strength and lightning reflexes can only get you so far."

"They've gotten me everywhere. Find me an enemy I can't beat, and I'll listen to your poncey little planning."

"Someday we will," Herman predicts, leaning his right cheek against his right fist, staring out the window and smiling as he fantasizes about their future together. Spike slaps his left cheek with his right hand.

"Are you saying I'm past my peak?"

"No Spike. Hell no. I'm saying our enemies will get stronger. They have to. There's nowhere for them to go but up. Take those two vampire hunters we chased down and killed in Queens the other night. Why weren't they working with the Slayer? They live in the same town. Ten miles apart. With a common enemy. But when you killed Nikki, she was alone. What if she wasn't? What if those guys fought by her side? Could you have killed all three of them at once?"

"Does it matter? They're dead. Bollocks to hypotheticals. You want to be great, Herman? You want to be like me? Live in the now." They pull into the driveway. Fred interrupts.

"Are you sure that's what you talked about?"

"Of course."

"Twenty seven years. You remember it that well?"

"It was a very pivotal night in my life."

"If you say so. It just seemed, you know, swelling with hindsight. Given how everything's turned out, the conversation seems a little too convenient."

"We had that same conversation all the time. It was like I wanted to educate him since he was always educating me. Rather ridiculous for a greenhorn like me to think he could teach a thing or two to a legend like Spike. But I was brash. I didn't care about offending people. He liked that about me. Back to Fairlawn."

Herman rings the doorbell. Spike stands to his right. "I feel so bloody stupid," Spike complains. "I look so bloody stupid."

"This is the midwest. You dress here like you do in New York, and you'll scare all your victims away."

"Wait a second," Fred interrupts. "The way you're telling it makes it sound like you're the one in charge. That makes no sense. You're telling your sire where to go, what to wear."

"He wanted to go to Chicago and Detroit, anyway. Fairlawn was on the way. As for the clothes, that was a small sacrifice to pay for a chance to wipe a family."

"Oh," Fred responds, made a little queasy by the reminder of where this story was going.

Herman's sixteen year-old sister Ingrid opens the door. Herman looks devastated. Ingrid looks shocked. Spike looks delighted. He thought the tall, slim teenager with the long, dark hair looked positively delicious. "Herman? Herman, what are you doing here?"

"We have a long Thanksgiving Break. Ingrid, what are you doing here? It's Friday night. I thought you'd be out with your friends." Friends. Something else to whet Spike's appetite.

"Why do you care?" Herman looks nervous, but doesn't respond. He cares because, by staying home on this particular night, she's signed her death warrant. "Who's this?," Ingrid asks, looking at Spike. He gives her a flirtatious grin.

"This is William. He's a friend of mine. A grad student from Chicago. He drove me here because it was on his way home."

"Can we come in?," Spike asks in his best attempt at a flat midwestern accent.

"Sure," Ingrid replies, taken aback by the question. "Take off your shoes." They enter and obey. Spike finds it hilarious that his victims' biggest worry is that he might track dirt on their carpet. Herman's parents come into the foyer and appear stunned.

"Herman," his father gasps. "Shouldn't you be at school?"

"And who is this?," his mother asks about the stranger she's instantly suspicious of.

"We get all of next week off for Thanksgiving. My last class was yesterday afternoon. It's dead on campus." Spike fights the urge to laugh. "All my friends have already left. William's a grad student in the classics department. He's driving home to Chicago, and since I'm on the way, he offered to give me a ride."

"What about the flight I bought for next Tuesday?," his father asks.

"I called up the airline and cancelled it. They said you're getting a full refund."

"Ingrid, go upstairs," her father orders. "Herman, can we talk in private?"

"It was nice meeting you," Spike says. "Your son is a very gifted pupil." He leaves the house. Mom, dad and son head into the living room.

"What's going on?," his mother demands to know.

"I'm home."

"Why didn't you call? Why didn't you say something in advance?"

"I'm sorry. I was busy. I don't get what the big deal is." Spike opens the door and races up the stairs. The parents have no idea why he did this. Herman groans. Spike couldn't even hold out for ten seconds.

"What is going on?," his father asks. Herman puts on his vampire face. His parents gasp and back away. His mom nearly faints.

"Your son is dead." Upstairs, Ingrid shrieks. Her parents tremble. Her father tries to run to her aide, but Herman grabs his shirt with his right hand and pulls his father back into the living room.

"Is this some sort of prank?," his mother asks. "A sick joke of yours?" He grabs her with his left hand.

"Mom. Dad. You did a wonderful job raising me." He tosses them across the room. "And deep down, I will always love you." Herman walks over to his dad as he stands up. Herman closes his eyes and snaps his father's neck. His mother moans tremulously, puts her right hand to her heart, hyperventilates, and starts to tear up. She backs into a corner as Herman swaggers towards her. Ingrid screams for help. "But parents should never outlive their children." He turns his head so he doesn't have to watch and snaps her neck. Ingrid screams some more. Herman puts his hand to his forehead "Spike. Why can't you learn a little self control?" He leans down and bites mom and dad in the neck, but doesn't drink. Then he runs upstairs, where Spike's getting his rocks off by brutally raping Herman's sister. Herman is furious. He rips a wooden leg off her desk and puts it to Spike's back. "Get the hell off her." Spike laughs. Herman raises the stake and brings it back down with force, stopping just above his heart. "Get away from my sister." Spike laughs, but obeys. Ingrid's traumatized, sobbing sister recognizes her older brother's voice, but not his face. Spike zips up his pants. Herman punches him in the nose with his right fist.

"What the bloody hell?," Spike wonders, putting his left hand to his bloody nose. "You brought me here for a reason." Herman hits Spike in the chin with a right uppercut.

"Not for this!" Herman lands a right hook. "It wasn't for this!!" He throws a right cross, but Spike blocks it with his left hand. He grabs Herman's left wrist with his right hand, squeezes and twists, causing Herman to drop the stake. Then he socks Herman in the jaw with a left hook, knocking him down.

"I come to your boring bloody town," he says. When Herman stands up, Spike tosses him into the hallway. "Wear your ugly bloody clothes." Herman stands up. Spike lands a right uppercut to his chin, grabbing him with both hands before he can fall down. "And you won't even let me have a little bloody fun!," he yells before hurling Herman down the stairs. Spike chuckles, goes bumpy and walks back into Ingrid's room as she breaks her window by throwing a chair through it. "Clever girl. And a fighter." He leaps over her bed and grabs her before she can jump. "I like a girl who scratches and bites. Most just squirm and beg me to stop." Spike has a bloody scratch down his left cheek and four red scratch marks running down his neck, not to mention a cut just below his lip from when he tried to kiss her and she bit him. As he holds both her arms, Ingrid knows Spike's too strong for her to push away. So she tries to hit him in the groin with her right knee. Spike pulls his left knee inward and blocks the attempt with his left thigh. "Definite potential," he says before tossing Ingrid back on the bed, getting on top and holding her arms down. "You'll thank me in the morning," Spike says with a laugh before leaning in and biting the left side of her neck.

"Help! Mom! Dad!!," she screams. Herman runs upstairs and sees Spike draining his sister. He knew that was inevitable from the moment he saw her answering the door. Ingrid scratches Spike's left cheek yet again, drawing more blood before losing the strength to fight. When he's done drinking, Spike sits up, looks down at his victim and bites his right wrist. Then he leans in, turning his left cheek towards her mouth. Ingrid licks the wounds she inflicted. Spike puts his right wrist to her mouth, and she starts sucking.

"Nooo!!!," Herman screams as he rips Spike's wrist away from his sister's lips and grabs the back of Spike's neck with his left hand. He throws Spike across the room and snaps his sister's neck before Spike leaps at Herman and push him out the window. But one look at Ingrid tells him it's not in the cards. He grabs her hair and lifts up her lifeless head while slowly shaking his own.

"Such a troublesome boy." He hears Herman open the front door and gallop up the stairs, turning to look at him as he rushes into the room.

"I'm sorry, Spike. But I couldn't let you make her like me."

"Why the bloody hell not? Now she's just dead. My way, she'd get a second chance. You know what a gas our life is."

"It's not for everyone."

"You don't want a baby sister? Dru's lobbying for a daughter."

"Not her. Not Ingrid."

"Not anymore. You took care of that." Spike shoves Herman against the wall. "Any other vampire defies me like that, he's dust in the bloody wind."

"I thought you hated that song?," Herman asks with a smirk. Spike chokes him with his right hand.

"But you get a free pass. Ya know why?"

"Because you like me," Herman wheezes. Spike lets go.

"Because you remind me of me. You're a rebel, Herman. Jus' like your old man." He musses up Herman's hair with his right hand and pulls the boy's head towards his chest. Herman smiles. They walk out into the hallway and down the stairs. Spike looks into the living room. "You said you couldn't do it."

"Someone had to."

"And you drained them?"

"Let's go."

"They're leaking." 

"Let's go!," Herman insists as he grabs Spike's left arm and pulls him towards the door. Spike shrugs and goes along.

"A little old for me, anyway." Herman closes the front door and they get back into Spike's car. "Don't you have two sisters?"

"We're done."

"She'll be in for quite the surprise when she gets home tonight," Spike says with a chuckle.

"You leave Gretchen alone." Spike looks at the car's clock. "It's nine-thirty. How old is she?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I thought she was the youngest. I'm sure she has a curfew. Probably be back before long."

"Let's meet up with Dru at the cemetery. You know how she gets if we leave her alone too long."

"We?," Spike asks as he pulls out of the driveway.

"She seems to like spending time with me."

"Someone's getting carried away by his hopes."

"Or maybe she's suffering from the ninety seven year itch." Spike laughs.

"In your dreams, Herman."

"Not all of it."

"You honestly think you can take my place?"

"Not completely. But everybody likes a little variety every now and then."

"Why don't you look for a pet your own age? That girl Lita really likes you."

"She's none-too-bright."

"But she's pretty."

"She has the mentality of a scavenger. Plus, the sex we had after our hunting date was lousy."

"Picky, picky."

"You don't know how lucky you are, Spike. You never had to search for someone. Dru ever leaves you, you'll find out how slim the pickings really are. Not like that'll ever happen." Spike drives into the cemetery, gets out and walks over to Dru.

"This one died heartbroken," she says to him before skipping over to another gravestone. "And this one, she loved her son, but naught her daughter."

"Honey, I'm home," Spike deadpans.

"My parents should be here in a few days," Herman notes. "Wonder what their tombstones will say." Dru stops dancing, looks at Herman and smiles.

"You did it!"

"All by myself." She runs over and hugs him.

"You've joined our family," she exults before pinching his cheeks.

Spike looks at his watch. "So where do you go around here for a live feast?"

"The mall." He checks his watch. "But it closes in ten minutes."

"Maybe we should have gone there first," a miffed Spike responds. The three of them get in the car – Herman in the back seat – and Spike speeds off to the mall, which is less than a mile away.

"You haven't explain how you got your name," Fred complains.

"I'm about to get to that. It doesn't make sense without the background. We get there as the last shoppers are leaving, fan out in the parking lot, and each kill one person. Six deaths in one night. Do you know how many murders there have been in Fairlawn since that bloody night twenty six years ago? Five."

"Are we proud of our little record?," Fred asks condescendingly.

"It always helps to put events in context. Allows you to understand their impact. Six unsolved murders in a single night in a bucolic small town. A lot of people blamed satan worshippers. A criminology course at Akron features a lecture on the spree. I sat in on it once a few years back. The professor concluded from forensic evidence that three people were involved. He postulated that the killers were itinerant, and connected the event to a number of killings we did in the midwest over the next few weeks. I talked with him after the class, asking about his profile of the killers. He told me they were young, white, attention-seeking. Probably two men and one woman. Like the Bonnie and Clyde gang' were his words. You know how in the movie they had that kid helping them out."

"This guy sounds good."

"Yes. He is."

"Now get to the point."

"We found an inn where the owner gave us a free room in exchange for Spike not killing him. Dru and I settled in, but Spike felt an urge to check out our crime scene. He went back to my house. The police had already arrived. Gretchen was at a dance at her middle school. The dance ended at 10:30. Her friend's mom drove her home, stopping in the street when she saw all the cop cars in the driveway and the police tape in front of the house. Gretchen slowly walked up the lawn, terrified. She knew all this meant something horrible had happened. Spike said she looked afraid to find out what that was. A female cop walked up to her and explained in a quiet voice. Gretchen screamed "No! No!" over and over and then started bawling. She was hysterical, as anyone in her position would be. The cop hugged her. When she regained enough composure to talk, Gretchen asked Why? Why? Who could have done such a thing?'"

"It was the work of the devil,' Spike heard the officer tell her. He watched the scene for a few more minutes. Saw Gretchen's friend and her mother walk up and find out what happened. Saw them also try to comfort my distraught sister. When he had his fill of grief, he came back. He was in very high spirits."

"Dev," Spike says, pointing at Devlin.

"What?"

"That's your new name. Dev!"

"Huh?" Dru stands up and starts swaying back and forth.

"I see it written in the stars. Devlin. My darling deadly boy Devlin." She lifts up his chin with her right hand and smiles at him, then starts dancing and singing with Spike. He uncorks a bottle of wine and tosses it to Devlin, opening a whisky bottle for himself.

"To Devlin," Spike says with a smile.

"To me!" Dev and Spike clink bottles and gulp down their alcohol in celebration.

"So there you have it," Devlin says to Fred. "You don't look too well. Something I said?"

"It's a sad, sick, sad story."

"Hard to hear what Spike was once like? It's one thing to know someone was a killer. It's another to hear about specific killings. Now you can finally envision him as a bad boy. It's no longer an abstraction."

"So what happened to your sister?"

"I don't know. Probably went to live with my mom's sister and her family in Cincinnati. I didn't keep track of her."

"Why did you spare Gretchen?"

"I came for my parents. Spike was going to kill them. I didn't want them to have grieve for me."

"But you had no problem letting Gretchen grieve for them. And for you. And for Ingrid."

"I had to make a clean break. I had new parents. So I felt like I needed to get rid of the old ones. But I couldn't drink their blood. That would have been too weird. Ingrid was an accident. She was popular. She had a lot of friends. It was a Friday night. I expected her to be out."

"Did you want your sisters to suffer?"

"Not particularly. It was an inevitable negative externality. Look. My parents had a full life. Fifty-plus years a piece. Three children, all of them nearly grown up. They had done their thing. My sisters hadn't."

"I understand why you wouldn't want to kill them. Some sort of incest taboo. But why keep Spike from doing it?"

"Because I loved them. All of them. That's why I killed killed my parents. That's why I wanted to spare both my sisters. No parent wants to grieve for a child. And I wouldn't have been dead. Worse. They would have heard I was missing. And they would never have found out what happened to me. For decades, all they could do was wonder. I saved them from that. I did not enjoy killing them. It brought me no pleasure. But it felt like something I had to do."

"So you were always this strange." Devlin chuckles.

"I prefer unique."

"No. I'll stick with strange."


	10. Slayer Power and what to do with it

Debbie tells Angel about how she discovered her Slayer Power, and what she decided to do with it.

"I guess I first noticed it on the Friday night after the first week back at school. Aunt Sally and Uncle Walter were fighting as usual. They were getting to the really loud part. I heard the first pots and pans get thrown. That's usually my signal for climbing out the window and sneaking off until things cooled down," Debbie recounts as Angel drives south along the coast. "I walked for about three blocks, then I stopped at the playground my mom used to take me to. It was empty, being after dark and all. I sat in one of the swings. Thought about stuff. Tried to figure out if their predictability made things easier or just more pathetic. The part that always got to me was, it wasn't their house. It was my house. Mine and mom's and dad's. But she's dead. And ever since my dad went away, it's felt like I've also been sent to prison. Like the house was a prison because I had to stay there, and now that my parents were gone, it didn't feel like my house any more. I do this a lot. Part of the predictable pattern. And, predictably, I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself, remembered how things could be a helluva lot worse, and how in two years I'm outta there and off to college."

"But then something happened to you that didn't fit the predictable pattern," Angel surmises.

"I started swinging. The up/down back/forth helps me calm down. It also reminds me to grow up, ironically. Guess that's cause when you're doing a little kid thing you keep thinking how stupid it is cause you're not a little kid anymore. I jerk my arms back and whip my legs forward to go higher. And I go WAY higher. Like, to the level of the bar on top. So high the chains got slack at the very end. Then I go back and notice that I'm looking straight down. The chain's parallel to the ground. You know when you're nine years old you talk with your friends about if it's possible to swing all the way around? Okay, maybe you don't. But that's what popped in my head. I got scared, didn't swing higher the next time up, and then jumped off the time after that. When I jumped, I swung my legs forward like always so you fly through the air for a sec. This time, it felt like three seconds. I flew over the see-saw, fell when my feet hit the ground and rolled into the bushes at the edge of the playground. I get up and look back at the swings, and realize I flew more than forty feet through the air. I knew I had hit the ground really hard. I was like fifteen feet up in the air before I crashed. But it didn't hurt. My feet, my ankles, my legs, they were fine. Better than fine. Like this power was surging through my body. Like how people must feel when they do Angel Dust."

"Never thought of it that way," Angel comments. "PCP makes people psychotic."

"And Slayer Power doesn't?"

"Not usually. And not at first. Unless there's some pre-existing condition." The first part was reference to Faith. The second to Dana.

"Angel Dust also makes people feel invincible. That's what I felt. I had no idea why. Hadn't taken any drugs. Hadn't smoked a joint in like two months. And if it was laced I would've felt something right away. There was no reason. No explanation. Next to the playground are two tennis courts. The fence around them's about twelve feet high. Without even thinking, I just ran towards it. I kept getting faster and faster. Like I was riding a bike downhill, except there's no bike. Then I leap at the fence and grab on. My hands are at the top. My feet are just above the bar that's halfway up. That's a six foot vertical leap! My first thought is, why am I trying to climb this fence?' Second thing I think is Holy shit! I've got a six foot vertical! I can dunk!!' Third thing was I look pretty stupid hanging on this fence.' So I jump back to the ground. After that, the urge to show off to myself was gone. What was left was fear. I kept thing This was wrong. I was wrong.'"

"It must be an incredibly tough thing to go through alone."

"You make it sound like getting your period or something," she replies with a laugh. "It's not a rite of passage. It's not supposed to happen. And people who think it's happening to them are crazy."

"You thought you were losing your mind?"

"No. I knew it was really happening. So that made me think the world must be crazy. And if I knew then what I know now about vampires and demons, I would have been certain the world had gone nuts."

"So you went into denial."

"Better than the other options. I just pretended nothing had happened. The power scared me. Imagine what other people would make of it. Seemed like a lot of trouble and no upside. By the way, when I got back to house, Walter was in front of the tv and Aunt Sally was in her room. She had a shiner under her left eye. Walt's a drunk and a scumbag, but he's not an idiot. He never hit her in the face on weeknight when she'd have to go into work the next day. That stayed with me for the next week as I kept my scary newfound power under wraps."

"Only natural for you to want to stop him the next time he tried anything."

"But I wasn't sure if I could. I could run fast and jump high, but that doesn't make you a good fighter. And I wasn't going to test my powers on Walt. Because if they didn't do me any good, he'd make me pay for trying."

"Did he ever hit you?"

"No. He didn't pretend to have any power over me. That was my aunt's job, since she was my blood relative. So I needed a test. The next Friday was Freshman Friday. That's the day every year when the upperclassmen pick on the Freshman boys. Swirlies. Stripped naked and duct-taped to a bathroom stall. Shaving cream in your hair. The smaller boys getting stuffed in lockers. The hazing's not as bad as it once was. I heard that ten years ago they caught a couple kids on the roof holding freshman over the edge by their feet. Worst part was, they'd let go for a second and then grab you before you fell. But that was then. On this day, I walked past a boy's bathroom after second period. I heard some kids struggling and begging and decided to check it out. Four football players were trying to give two tiny freshmen swirlies. And one of the toilets hadn't been flushed.

"I think you're in the wrong bathroom, sweetie," one of the upperclassmen says as he glances to his right and sees Debbie approaching.

"Then why don't you do something about it?," she asks back.

"What, is the line too long in the little girls' room?," another guy asks mockingly.

"You tell me," Debbie responds. She rushes towards him, grabs a guy twice her size by his shirt and lifts his feet off the ground, then hurls him over her shoulder towards the door. He slams hard into the tile. The three guys stop what they're doing and look at Debbie. "That's the hard way," she tells them, suddenly filled with confidence. "Easy way is to walk on out. Which one will it be, boys?" They aren't sure what to do. Hitting a girl is wrong. But backing down to one is only slightly less wrong.

"This is none of your business," the largest one, a offensive tackle, tells her.

"And how is it your business to pick on a couple kids who've done nothing to you?"

"Time to go," the tackle says. He takes her right arm and a linebacker takes her left.

"Hey!," she yells, try to hold her footing and keep from being dragged away. A running back steps towards her and laughs. She kicks him in the chest with her right foot, knocking him ten feet back into the wall. This stuns everyone, including Debbie. The two other guys stop when they hear their friend crash into the wall. Deb grunts and pushes both of them back with her arms. She takes the linebacker's left arm in her left hand and pushes on his back with her right hand, sending him towards the door and into the first guy she threw. The running back, sore from the kick, hunches over and scurries past Debbie. The tackle, not wanting to get routed by anyone, grabs her shoulders. She swings her arms around, breaks free and slams his back into the wall. "I think they'd like an apology."

"You gotta be crazy." She shoves him again, this time causing his neck to whip back and the back of his skull to slam into the concrete. "Ow! Okay, you really are crazy." He shakes his head and glances to his left at the two boys. "Sorry," he casually tells them in a low, quiet, insincere voice.

"Now get the hell out," she adds before throwing him forward, causing him to roll on the ground a few times before standing up and joining his three friends in abject retreat. The two freshmen don't appear very grateful. No boy at that age likes to be saved by someone else, especially a girl. They quickly walk out without making eye contact. Deb smiles and decides to try something. She punches the outer side wall of one of the stalls with her right fist. Each of her four knuckles leaves a dent. She smiles, laughs, and runs off to her third period class, giddy.

"It's exhilarating the first time you realize you can have that kind of power over people," Angel comments.

"It was unreal. I had no idea what I was doing when I entered that bathroom. I was making it all up as I went along. And everything I wanted to happen happened. One moment I'm thinking Wouldn't it be cool to throw a two hundred pound guy across a room,' and the next thing I know, I'm doing it."

"Makes you feel like a god."

"What? No. It made me feel like a super hero. Not a really powerful one. But strong enough to get what I wanted." Part of the reason Debbie's being so open to Angel is fear of what he and his organization can do. She's still working under the assumption that he is in league with Buffy.

"What about helping people?," Angel asks.

"That was one of the things I wanted. To pick on the strong. To bully the bullies."

"But then you become just like them."

"No I don't. They pick on the weak and the defenseless. That's completely different."

"You do it for the same reason they do: because you get a kick out of it."

"So I'm not a saint. I help way more people than I hurt. And the people I hurt, I don't hurt them that bad."

Deb's walking down a crowded hallway, heading to lunch. She hears someone banging on the inside of a locker. Deb walks over and tries to force it opens. She only succeeds in ripping off the handle. So she hits the area around the lock twice with her right fist. The loud impact catches the attention of passers-by, who stop to see what's making the noise. The door's dented, but she still can't open it. A third punch dislodges the lock and the door opens. The kid inside had been frightened by the loud banging. He thought his tormentors had returned. But it's just a girl. Confusion is soon surpassed by embarrassment, and he quickly steps out of the locker, grabs his books, puts his head down and walks away, trying to pretend nothing happened. Debbie turns around and sees Cynthia.

"What's got you so spazzed, Deb?," Cynthia asks. Debbie has some explaining to do.

"How did your friends take it?," Angel asks.

"They thought I was nuts. Then word started spreading about my little demo in the boys' bathroom. After school, I told them people were saying was true. They asked how I could manhandle four guys twice my size. So I decided to give them a little demonstration." Debbie and her five friends walk in front of a mansion with a eight foot-high wrought iron stockade surrounding the property. Deb jumps over the fence, then jumps back. Theo laughs to conceal his shock, then looks up at the trees lining the boulevard.

"Okay Deb. Where are the wires?"

"Wasn't no magic trick, T," she says as she swaggers up to him.

"Then what was it?," Danielle asks.

"It was what you saw. Pure and simple."

"Anything but simple," Cynthia comments.

"Cause what I saw was impossible," Melanie points out.

"How can it be impossible if it happened?," Debbie asks. This was how she had rationalized it to herself.

"Occam's Razor says the simplest explanation is usually the correct one," Diego offers. "What exactly would that be in this case?" Everyone's stumped. "Has the government been experimenting on you? Received any shots lately?," he asks half-jokingly.

"You mean like the one you got after hooking up with Tracey last month?," Debbie crudely jokes, getting a few laughs for this stock gibe.

"If we had gone all the way, you know I would have bragged about it," Diego jokes back.

"No injections. No lab testing. And while you're asking, I wasn't exposed to radiation or bitten by something either," Debbie adds. "Let's go hang out at Mel's. Race you guys there." Deb speeds off. Everyone looks at Cynthia.

"Hey, I didn't know anything until lunch. And if something had been done to her, Deb woulda told me." They hurry off to join Debbie at Melanie's house, which is two blocks away. In the driveway, Deb lifts the back end of an Audi three feet off the ground.

"It's front-wheel drive," Melanie points out, trying to detract from and explain the feat. Deb lifts the front end two feet up with considerably more effort before letting go.

"So you're not Superman," Cynthia comments as she puts her right arm around her best friend's shoulders in mock consolement.

"Good," Debbie replies with a smile. "He never got to have any fun." Cynthia steps away from Deb, worried like the others about the where Debbie is going with this. "Chill. I'm not gonna break into houses or nothing. People always say it's a sin not to use your God-given gifts."

"Who says this is from God?," Theo asks.

"Who else could have given me them?," Deb responds. Angel looks especially nervous when he hears this part of the story. But he doesn't quite feel like saying anything about Willow at this moment. "I just wanna have some fun without hurting anyone who doesn't deserve it. Who's with me?" There's a fire in her eyes. For the first time in Debbie's life, she is a leader. And one her friends know they would be fools not to follow.

Come Monday, the six of them stride side-by-side through the hallways. Front and center is Debbie, a normally shy, easily-overlooked girl now beaming with self-confidence. To her left and just behind her is Cynthia Morgan, who is an inch taller than Deb. She has short black hair and brown eyes. To Cynthia's left, and with his right arm around her shoulders, is her boyfriend Theodore Isaacson. He's a light-skinned young black man (his mom's black, his father's white), three inches taller than Cynthia, and has short, close-cropped hair. To Debbie's right and slightly behind her is Diego Campos, who's two inches shorter than Theo and of slightly darker complexion (he sometimes jokes with Theo about being "blacker" than him). To his right is Melanie Tarkington, who's three inches shorter than Debbie and very petite, with long, straight almond-colored hair and hazel eyes. To her right is Danielle Park, a Korean who's an inch taller than Melanie and more powerfully built, with black hair that goes down to slightly below her shoulders. The six of them are like a moving wedge, cutting through the crowds of students who step out of their way. A tall, strapping future Homecoming King in a varsity jacket walks straight towards Debbie, expecting her and her friends to move out of his way. Deb grabs him and tosses him into a locker eight feet to her right. The young man's friends are horrified. A few other onlookers snicker. Debbie and her friends move on as if nothing happened.

"So you became just like the people you hate," Angel concludes.

"First, I don't hate them. I never did. Second, if you're saying I'm a bully, you're wrong. Bullies pick on the weak. I pick on the strong."

"You pick on people who are weaker than you."

"Pick on's too strong a word. I intimidate. But I don't beat them up. I don't take their lunch money. I don't give anyone wedgies. I haven't done anything that would cause anyone to bring a gun to school to get revenge."

"That's a pretty low standard."

"I also help people."

"To build a reputation. Real heroes don't need adulation."

"It's called advertising. That way, if people have a problem, they know they can come to me for help. Nerds, geeks, goths, freaks – they've never been safer."

"A dictatorship of the Slayer," Angel quips. "It's appealing in theory. In practice, there's just too much temptation to abuse your power."

"Maybe there was. Maybe it almost got me killed."

"I thought you said no one tried to take revenge?"

"Not at school. I'll get to that later. First, I want to answer your question about how I got to live alone."

"That's obvious. First time your Uncle tried to hit your Aunt after you got your power, you stopped him. Then you threw him out."

"It seems more dramatic the way I remember it."

"Go ahead," Angel concedes. He might as well hear the details.

"It was that same Friday, around eleven at night. It was payday, so Uncle Walter had gone out with his buddies from work. He came home a little buzzed, but still mostly sober. Asked me why I was in front of the tv instead of doing my homework. This was usually when I fled to my room and turned up my stereo. Most of the time, there wasn't hitting, but there almost always was yelling. That night, I turned off the set, but I didn't leave. Instead, I cracked open my chemistry textbook and stayed on the couch to read. Aunt Sally was surprised. Uncle Floyd didn't really notice. She tells him it was payday for her as well, and she went to the bank after work to deposit the check. He knew what she was getting at. She asked how much he spent. He said it was his money. Things got more heated. He wants to know why it matters what he does with his money. That's when I jumped in."

Debbie stands up. "Because of me." Walt turns around, shocked that Debbie was butting in. She'd never done that before. "Not that I need your money. God knows you'd never give it to me. But if you had a bad Sunday and blew all your money on a few football games, someone at Child Services might decide you're an unfit parent. Then Aunt Sally would have to make a choice: leave you, or stay with you and let me get sent off to a foster home. And let's face it – you're her husband, but I ain't her kid. You got a right to throw away your money. You got no right to mess with my life." Walt smiles, chuckles and slowly shakes his head. Sally fears for her sister's daughter.

"You think she loves me more than she loves you?," he asks.

"Sure do. But you have a real funny way of reciprocating," she replies, clearly baiting him. Walt turns around and points at Sally.

"What the hell have you been telling this girl? What crap have you been filling her head with?" This isn't what Deb wants. She's trying to incite Walt to attack her, not Sally.

"In case you haven't noticed, we don't talk much," Deb assures him. But he ignores her and keeps after Sally, who retreats into the kitchen and tries to reason with her husband. "Hey!," Deb yells out. She runs into the kitchen, grabs Walt from behind, spins him around and slams his back into the wall with great force, stunning him and shocking his wife. "I'm talking to you! You got a problem with what I say, come after ME." She steps back and stares him down.

"Kid's got real spunk," Walter jokes, trying to lighten the mood. "Just like her mother."

"That's right," Deb replies with a smile. "And she never would've let you do to her what you've done to her sister. She wouldn't have stood for it." Now Sally's getting upset. "Let me ask you something," Debbie says to Walt with a look of menace on her face that he's never seem before. "Don't you get tired beating up on the same person year after year? The same face. Same eyes. Same nose. Same mouth." she continues, parodying the usual speeches about what a drag monogamy can be. "I thought men liked variety. What's the problem? You afraid your wife will get jealous if you hit another women? Especially one as young as myself."

"Debbie, please, please go to your room," Sally pleads, trying to protect her niece. "She's a teenager. You know how rebellious they are at her age," she explains to Walter.

"Relax, Aunt Sally. I think it's time I took one for the family." Walt's outraged, but also deeply confused. "What's wrong? Is it only fun when woman's not asking for it? When she wants you to stop? Quit looking at her. She's got nothing to do with this. You know that. This is between you and me, Uncle Walt." Debbie grabs him and throws him through the door and onto the living room rug. She follows after him. "Here's how it works, Walt. You hit her, I hit you. But why don't we just skip the first part and get this over with quickly."

"I wasn't talking to you. Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

"Fine. I won't. If you get the Hell out."

His jaw drops. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

"Don't know. Don't care. Doesn't matter. Now hurry up and take a swing at me before I punch your lights out."

"Very funny." He tries to move Debbie out of the way, but she pushes him back to the ground.

"Nothing funny about any of this." Walt stands back up. "I wonder what would happen if Aunt Sally could hit like this." Debbie decks Walter with a right hook. Sally gasps and moans. A woozy Walter grabs his jaw and slowly rises to his feet. He's six feet tall, about two hundred and twenty pounds, with bulky arms and a pot belly. "Maybe then you'd learn your lesson."

"You little brat," he responds before striking her face with the back of his right hand. She shrugs it off.

"Is that the best you can do?," Deb asks back. She pounds his chin with a right uppercut. He sails through the air and hits the floor a few feet in front of the front door. This time, he appears to be down for the count. Sally runs over. She doesn't know what to make of any of this. She grabs Debbie by her shoulders and stares into her eyes.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"You can leave with him if you want." She knocks away her Aunt's arms and steps back. "I know what you're thinking. And you're wrong. He takes this out on you, he'll be hearing from me." Debbie leans down, grabs Walter's hair and lifts his head up. "Did you hear that, Walter!?," she yells into his right ear before letting go. The back of his head falls to the floor again. She stands up and looks at Sally. "He puts you in the hospital, I put him in the hospital. You press charges, he might go to jail. He presses charges, well," Debbie laughs, "look at me. Who's gonna believe him? Besides, what would all his buddies say if word got out he was beaten up by a girl? To be honest, I think this is one of those moments he'll wanna forget about. Just like you will." Debbie opens the door and tosses Walter onto the grass.

"We barely said a word to each other that weekend," Deb tells Angel. "Aunt Sally left the next Tuesday and followed Uncle Walter back to Fountain Valley. They're still together."

"And who pays the mortgage on your parents' house?"

"You know that my dad's in prison, and why he went there, right? Well, he could've gotten three years if he flipped on the distributor he worked for. But he didn't, and got ten years instead. But in exchange, that guy agreed to cover the mortgage why my dad was away. It was the least he could do. Literally. Small price to pay for your freedom, right? My Aunt and Uncle thought it came from my mother's life insurance policy."

"You think your father made the right decision?"

"To get involved with criminals? No. The deal itself, I dunno. I guess his thinking was in three years I'd already be gone and in college. And this way, at least he'd be providing me with something. That's why he dabbled in that stupid business in the first place. I don't wanna talk about him. Me and my parents, that's private."

"And your boyfriend?"

NEXT: Devlin tells Fred about meeting Spike and getting sired.


	11. How to meet your future sire

[Devlin explains how he met Spike and got sired.]

"I don't need to hear about that," Fred pleads.

"Can't stand to hear a bad word about Spike, can you?," Devlin responds.

"No. It just doesn't matter. You're a vampire. He turned ya into one. That's all I need to know."

"No it's not," Dev tells her as he leans in and grins. "Not even close." Fred's a tad frightened. She knows can't make him stop talking, and he can make her listen. Besides, it can't be more upsetting than his last story.

Herman walks into the Mud Club with his college friends. Richard Hell and the Voivoids are rocking out on stage. Spike plays as Dru sways to the beat. Herman's molded his hair into about twenty little spikes, each one about an inch high. The bottom quarter-inch is dark, while everything above is dyed blonde. He wears torn jeans, a black Sex Pistols t-shirt and a thin gray thrift store cloth coat. Around his neck is a thick metal chain with a small padlock at the bottom. The five guys and three girls get a table in back. The place is fairly empty, as is evident from the scattered applause when the song ends. Spike and Dru look around. She points out the new arrivals. "College girls," Spike notes with a smile.

"Look at little spikey," she says. Spike laughs at her pun on Herman's hairstyle.

"Bloody poser. Just like all the other Yanks."

"You want to go back to London?"

"London's old news. And Americans taste better. Less greasy."

"Awl those fish and bangers, chips and mash."

"You want the boy?," he asks. She turns around.

"The boy wants you." Spike thinks this over.

"He's a poofer?" Dru giggles.

"He wonts to learn." She walks away. Spike's confused. Learn what? How to be a vampire? How to be a punk? How to be irresistible to the ladies? The kid doesn't look so special. But Dru has a sense when it comes to these things. So Spike decides to eavesdrop from a distance.

"Are you kidding? This is a great time to be in New York City," Herman maintains.

"Fiscal bankruptcy. Whole neighborhoods going up in flames. The Yankees winning the World Series."

"Okay, it's not perfect," Herman concedes. He happens to be an Cleveland Indians fan. "But look what's coming out of the chaos." He gestures to the stage. The others aren't exactly big Richard Hell fans. "Oh, come on! Order and tranquility are just not inspiring. Take New York. What great bands did it produce in the fifties and sixties? Besides the Velvets, of course. That's because life wasn't nearly so lousy. But the moment everything goes to hell, Manhattan becomes the center of the musical universe. Coincidence? I think not."

"Maybe you should explain that to all the poor, unemployed people in this city," one of his female friends suggests.

"Yeah, it sucks to be them. But someone's always going to suffer." Likes chaos. Doesn't mind suffering. This boy sounds promising to Spike. "Let's say you could wave a magic wand, make this city prosperous again. Guess what happens then? Our rents double! You all are benefiting from this chaos as much as I am. Did he say last song?" Herman leaves the table and runs up to the stage as Richard Hell launches into "Blank Generation." Dru grabs Spike from behind.

"You loik?"

"He's more interesting than most. Not as dumb as he looks." Dru spins him around.

"I used to tell Darla the same about you." Spike's mildly offended.

"She called me dumb? Compared to who? That Cro-Magnon Angelus?"

"Wait a second," Fred interrupts. "How do you know this?"

"Spike told me later on."

"If you're gonna make me hear this, and least tell it for your own point of view. Otherwise it just doesn't sound credible."

"Okay. As you wish. I first noticed Spike after Blondie took the stage. During their second song, I went over to the bar to get us some more beers. He was doing the same for himself. While I was waiting for the bartender to get to me, I looked to my left and there he was, a few feet away. He looked back. I thought he thought I was staring, so I got nervous."

"You here for her?," Spike asks.

"Who?," a slightly frightened Herman responds.

"Debbie?"

"Oh." Herman laughs. "No. I came for the opening act. My friends wanted to see Blondie. Their songs are okay. She's really hot and all that. But I like my music a little harder."

"She's not my type," Spike explains. "Flowing blonde locks. Wispy, waifish body. Makes me want to heave."

"You really English?," Herman asks, upsetting Spike. "You sound real. Just that a lotta guys round here have started pretending. They think it makes them sound cool and helps them get girls."

"Mine's very bloody real," Spike whispers, leaning in to frighten Herman. "Londoner born and bred."

"Cool. So do you have the Clash album? I know that's out in the U.K. Record shop in Soho says they'll have the bootleg in two weeks. Right now all I got is their first single. It's awesome."

"Clash are bloody rubbish," Spike declares before taking a swig from his bottle of beer. "The Sex Pistols. That's punk rock." He pulls back Herman's jacket to look at the Sid Vicious image on his shirt. Spike smiles. "Are you a fan?"

"They rock." Spike laughs at Herman's lame, suburban compliment.

"They ARE rock."

"And rock is dead. I know their whole party line."

"Nothing wrong with loving something that's dead," Spike says cryptically.

"I got their first two singles: Anarchy,' God Save the Queen.' Great stuff. I hear they've finished their first LP, but they got record company troubles. Gone through three of them in the last six months." Herman chuckles. "Or maybe that's just cause Malcolm MacLauren likes taking the advance and running out the door. That's the problem. I wish they'd take themselves seriously."

"That would be dull," Spike responds with sneer. "Ruin the whole bloody point."

"The point being that it's all a scam. They're a scam. This t-shirt I'm wearing's a scam. And I'm a sucker for buying because it because all they care about is exploiting chumps like me who believe the music still matters."

"You really are Clash fan," Spike spits out scornfully.

Herman pays for his eight beers. Spike finishes the one he just received and orders another. Herman notices the bartender skips the people who've been waiting longer and instantly gets Spike was he wants. "Hey. He didn't charge you."

"VIP," Spike responds. Herman looks at him and smiles. The (mostly) Platonic seduction continues. Herman remembers what he was just talking about.

"Everyone says rock and roll is dead. Fine. I'll bite. The question is, what happens next? The Clash, The Ramones, Television, The Jam — they want to bring it back from the dead. But the Sex Pistols, they're just conducting a funeral. If the hippies murdered rock and roll, then it's our job to resurrect it." Spike's beginning to wonder who's seducing whom. He holds his bottle out towards Herman in order to give a toast.

"To coming back from the dead."

"I'll drink to that." Spike's knees almost get wobbly when he hears this. Herman's friends wonder what's taking so long. He tries to pick up all eight beers. Spike helps him, taking four over to the table. As he sets them down, he flirts with Emily, a tall, slim freshman with short, slightly curly black hair who wears a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.

"Care to introduce us to your new friend," Emily says to Herman while still staring up at Spike.

"The name's Spike."

She giggles. "That's a funny name." Herman sits down to Emily's right. "Like Herman's hair." She puts her right hand on top of his head, smushing his spikes. He swats it away and tries to fix her hair. They both laugh. "How did you get it?"

"Long story," Spike responds with a smirk. "Maybe I'll get the chance to tell you sometime. Nice meeting you." He looks at her. Then he looks at Herman and winks before returning to Drusilla. Herman watches. She looks like the most glamorous woman he's ever seen.

"Too bad Emily. Looks like your guy's already got someone." He points to Spike and Dru.

"Too bad yourself, Herman. You're the one who picked him up," she jokes.

"You pick up a lot of guys at bars?," Reggie asks mockingly.

"Nope. He was my first," Herman responds wistfully, playing along with the gag.

"Looks a little older," Cathy observes, glancing over her shoulder at Spike.

"Not that much older," Emily responds.

"Someone's been hooked," Nancy says to Emily. "Waiting for him to reel you in?"

"Grow up. He's cute. I noticed. How could I not? That means I can see. It doesn't mean I want him."

"He sounded English," Eric observes, stating the bloody obvious.

"From London," Herman responds.

"What's he doing here?," Len asks.

"How should I know? We just talked music. It's not like I actually know the guy."

"Do you want you?," Nancy asks.

"Wrong question," Emily interjects, gazing at Spike in the distance. "With a man like that, the question is, does he want to know you?"

"The show ended around one in the morning," Devlin tells Fred. "The girls wanted to go dancing, so we took the subway to midtown and hit a few clubs. Not exactly my scene, but I was looking to score. No luck, though. Let's just say that when it came to the Sexual Revolution, I was a conscientious objector." This gets a few chuckles from Fred. She finds Devlin's inner geek a lot less repulsive than the rest of him. "I got back downtown a little after three, and was walking past Washington Square Park on the way to my apartment. That's when I spotted them standing under the arch."

Herman walks over to Spike. A little ways behind Spike, Dru is dancing and singing all by her lonesome. "What exactly is your girlfriend on?," Herman casually asks Spike.

"Life. Other people's," Spike responds with a sly grin. He exhales and tosses off the cigarette he just finished.

"You live around here?"

"I suppose I could. If I wanted to." Herman's beginning to find Spike's caginess a bit worrisome. "You live round here, Herman?" He's glad Spike remembered his name. But it also raises questions.

"That would explain why I'm here."

"Don't you get it?," Spike asks him as Dru slowly walks over to them. "I came for you."

Herman laughs weakly to mask his confusion and nervousness. "That's flattering. Not in the usual way, though. If you really wanted to get together, you could have just asked for my number. Would have saved you a lot of time waiting around in the dark."

"See that," Spike says, pointing at the cigarette he just dropped to the ground. "I lit it up the moment I got here. Haven't been waiting very long. Haven't had to. I knew when you'd be here. My pet told me. Isn't that right, doves?" Dru hugs and kisses Spike, then looks at Herman, who's really creeped out by now.

"I loik this one," she says, pinching his left cheek with her right hand. Then she moves the hand over the top of Herman's skull, about an inch above his hair. "His moind's like a choo-choo, spinning and churning, steaming and burning. Such delightful sizzle." She makes a hissing sound.

"Careful love. Wouldn't want to scare off the boy."

"What's going on?," Herman asks, rapidly losing his patience.

"The nine-to-five, pencil-pushing, grey flannel suit life isn't for you, now is it, Herman?"

"Find me a college kid who answers in the affirmative and I'll, well, do nothing, because you won't. It's a rhetorical question, wrapped around at least three cliches. Maybe it's because I'm tired, but you're a lot less interesting now than you were at the show." Herman starts to walk away. Drusilla steps in front of him, grabs his hands and starts spinning him around. For a second, he's excited because he thinks she's really hot. But then he goes back to feeling nervous because he strongly suspects she's a taco short of a combination plate. Spike laughs at Herman's last comment.

"I think it's safe to say this is the last time you'll ever call us boring." Dru stops spinning. She leans in so that her face is a foot from Herman's. He can't help but stare into her eyes as Spike bites the right side of his neck from behind.

"Ow. Ow!!! You son of a -." Spike's done drinking. Herman collapses into Drusilla's arms. She goes bumpy and smiles at Spike. They kiss, then Dru bites the right side of Spike's neck. She puts Herman's mouth to the wound. He raises his arms and grabs the top of Spike's head with both hands to hold himself up. Herman drinks in big gulps until he falls to the ground.

"Boy's a natural," Spike says to Dru. He looks at his right shoulder. Herman dripped a little on the collar. "Does blood come out of this thing?"

"That was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep and started dreaming. You know those falling dreams where you never hit the ground? It was like that, except I was chasing a girl. I could hear her heart pounding. I could sense her fear. But I could never catch her. I got closer and closer, but just when I was about to grab her, I'd trip. Then I'd stand up and resume the chase. I wanted to kill her, tear into her flesh, suck the life out of her. And it felt completely natural. Of course, waking up felt completely unnatural."

"Must be weird clawin' your way out of the ground."

"Buried in a coffin? I wish! Spike had a motorboat. Dru liked to go out on night cruises around the island. She dressed me up in a dark suit, and he dumped me in the middle of the Hudson River."

"Ah thought he liked you?"

"It was less work than digging a hole. Also, he wanted to see if I had what it took. I was a test of sorts. And possibly a metaphor for human birth. Emerging out of the water would be something Dru would think of. I open my eyes, and I'm completely disoriented. I'm not just underwater. I'm under the layer of muck at the bottom of the river. I try to swim up out of the sludge, but quickly realize my right legs's tied to a rock. I don't know if it was a rock, since I couldn't see anything. But whatever it was, it was heavy enough to hold me down. I felt for the knot, and tried to untie it. That didn't work. Then I felt my face. It seemed to be swollen in strange places. Plus, my teeth were bigger and sharper. Then it occurred to me: why don't I try to gnaw the rope off? Sure enough, that worked. I floated to the surface and looked around. The Statue of Liberty on one side, skyscrapers on the other. I was downtown. Which was a relief. For all I knew, my attackers could have dumped me way out at sea. I swam towards Battery Park. Spike was waiting. He laughed as I pulled myself up onto a pier and crawled ashore.

As Herman coughs up mud and water and adjusts to not having to breathe, Spike looks at his right ankle. The knot's still tied. He can see where the boy gnawed it off. "I think this one has brains," Spike says to Dru. Herman stands up. He's soaking wet, and he stinks. He can hear the cars whizzing by a quarter mile away as if he were standing next to the road. He rapidly turns his head side to side, trying to get a sense of his surroundings, and of his enhanced abilities to comprehend them. Everything inside him feels different. "Welcome, mate!," Spike announces. Herman looks at Spike and punches him in the nose with a right cross.

"You did this to me! You son of a bitch!"

"Let's not bring my mum into this," Spike quips. Herman lands a right hook. Spike laughs some more.

"How bout a little thanks?"

"Thanks? Thanks!" Herman hits Spike in the mouth with a right jab. "Thanks to you, I just crawled out of industrial waste!" He throws a right hook. Spike blocks it.

"You'll have to learn to fight with both hands." Herman grabs Spike's throat with his left hand and tries to choke him. Spike pushes him to the ground. "You'll also have to learn that our kind doesn't breathe. Choking's not very bloody useful." Herman gets up, charges Spike while yelling, tackles him and drives Spike onto his back. He tries to land more punches, but Spike blocks them and tosses Herman off of him. They both get up. Herman charges again. Spike casually sticks out his left palm and nails him in the nose. Herman backs up. "Okay. So you're an ungrateful little bugger. I get that. But why waste your time on me? Listen to your body. What's it telling you? What does it want?" Herman looks at Dru and growls with lust. Then he looks at Spike and growls with anger. Spike groans and rolls his eyes. "Oh bloody hell. Not this again."

"I'm hungry," Herman announces.

"Now you're gettin' it!," Spike replies with relief.

"Gotta kill that girl," Herman adds as he walks past Spike and Dru and heads north.

"Which one?," Spike asks, unaware that Herman's speaking metaphorically.

"Did you kill your friends?," Fred asks Devlin.

"Of course not. A college kid disappears when all his friends are murdered, and the missing college kid gets his picture in the papers. The City would be ruined for me. Spike wanted to have some fun with Emily. But I convinced him that would draw too much attention to me. For a vampire to operate, he requires a certain amount of anonymity."

"When did you stop practicing what you're preaching?"

"You need anonymity to hunt and kill. I'm not doing that around here."

"What if you wanted to?"

"I'd have a lot of trouble. Just like Angel would in LA. Though he'd have it a lot worse. Cops could put out an APB, get his picture on the five o'clock news." Devlin laughs. "He'd be a regular celebrity, with all the scrutiny that entail."

"That's sorta comforting," Fred responds. Something occurs to Devlin.

"Maybe that's part of your employer's plan. Give Angel power, put him in the public eye, and he becomes to control. Dru told me they wanted him bad. But, as she taught them, demons can be very disobedient. If the firm can make life for a maverick Angelus miserable, he has no choice by to seek their protection and do their bidding. Sorry to bore you. I'm sure this occurred to all of you a long time ago." Actually, it hadn't. Fred and her friends didn't like to consider scenarios involving the return of Angelus. To them, it was like planning for life after a nuclear war. "Anyway, downtown New York is deserted after dark. I had to schlepp a couple miles up the west side before finding my first meal: two security guards in the lobby of Chase-Manhattan. Then I headed back to Spike's place, got out of my clothes, took a shower and hit the sack. You get tired after your first feeding."

Herman gets into bed. Drusilla walks over to him. She's wearing a sheer red silk nightgown. "Enjoy your tea and crumpets before nap time?"

"Are you always this . . . allegorical?," Herman asks, struggling to find a euphemism for nuts.

"You're fresh," Dru says, climbing onto the bed. "Untouched."

"No. I've been touched." She runs her right hand all the way up his left leg. "Maybe not like that," he concedes. Suddenly, Herman is no longer tired.

"William wus the same way."

"Who?," Herman asks. Dru, who's now straddling Herman, takes off her nightgown. "Never mind."

"William . . . Do you mean Spike?," Fred asks Devlin. "Spike was a virgin!" She laughs.

"Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that part. Now he'll have a reason to kill me."

"Other than you being a soulless vampire who could return to murdering at any moment."

"Yes. But he wouldn't take that so personally."

NEXT: Vampire saves Slayer, then tries to gain her trust.


	12. How to woo a Slayer when you're soulless

The story of how a Slayer-killing vampire comes to meet a Slayer, fall in love with her, save her life, and try in vain to win her trust. All in the span of a few whirlwind minutes.

Debbie and Angel and strolling down San Clemente State Beach. "Been here before?," Angel asks, trying to make conversation.

"Not after dark, when it's closed and fenced off. But I guess folks like you and me don't have to worry about those sortsa things."

"We have bigger worries. Speaking of which - "

"I'm getting to how the vampires found me out. Sort of a fluke. Or maybe what I had coming to me. No, I didn't do anything bad enough to deserve to die."

"After a month in Rome, I decided to go back to my old hunting ground in the Pacific Northwest. See some friends, enjoy the overcast weather. On a trip down to San Fran, I ran into some refugees. They said life wasn't quite so fun in LA anymore. Friends had turned into enemies. New, unnatural alliances were getting formed. Blah, blah, blah. I couldn't care less about their problems. Until one of them mentioned a rumor that Angel and Spike had been seen together in a cemetery. Now that I cared about. Spike working for Buffy I understood. He wanted to sleep with her. But that couldn't be the case in this instance. So I went to see what the dirty old sod was up to. I ended up at some low-end vampire hang-out east of Anaheim. That's where I met Tiffany. Young, blonde, vacuous. The sort of girl I'd kill but never waste my time siring. Apparently Lonnie had lower standards. He was with his friend Howie. Tiff told them about this really annoying girl at her school with super strength. Lon and How knew right away what this girl was. So did I. Couldn't help but offer my assistance."

Devlin walks over to their table with a beer in his left hand and a cigarette in his right. Lonnie and Howie both appear to be in their early twenties. Lon is attractive in an unkempt greaser sort of way. Howie is equally unkempt, but plainer. The three of them treat the new arrival suspiciously. "Looks like we got ourselves a carpetbagger," Lon says to Devlin. Tiffany appears confused by the term. The guy doesn't even have a handbag.

"Sounds like you got yourselves a Slayer. Ever killed one?"

"Have you?"

"Less than two months ago."

"Bull," Howard declares.

"It's such a hassle when my reputation doesn't precede me. Someone always ends up bloody and unconscious."

"You think you could take me?"

"No. I think I could take all three of you. But what would that prove? Pick anyone in this dive. I'll have them incapacitated before you can finish your drink." Lonnie and Howard stare at the not-terribly-tough-looking vampire. "What's the matter? Too many syllables? It means I'll beat them up."

"You're serious?," Lonnie asks. Devlin puts out his cigarette in his left palm. "Hey Cyrus!," Lon calls out. A bulky guy well over six feet tall turns around. "This little punk says he can kick you ass."

"He's lying," Dev tells Cyrus as he stands up. "I only said I could knock you unconscious." He gives the larger vamp a cocky smile. Cyrus sticks his left index finger in a shot of whisky. His girlfriend lights the finger, and Cyrus goes to light her cigarette. Devlin, never one to miss a chance to be impudent, rushes over, a fresh cigarette between his lips. "Do you mind?" Cyrus decks him with a right hook and lights his girl's smoke. She blows his burning finger out as Dev stands up. "Cute parlor trick. Used to do it in science class with a little rubbing alcohol and a bunsen burner." Cyrus winds up for another right hook. Before he can land the punch, Devlin connects with two right jabs to the chest and a left uppercut to the chin. Cyrus steps back, slightly stunned. Devlin nails his face with a right roundhouse kick, then ducks under a left hook before popping Cyrus in the jaw with one of his own. Devlin walks away, takes out his lighter and lights up his smoke. Cyrus charges, and without turning round Dev puts him on his back with a left reverse kick. The crowd gasps. Devlin exhales through his nose and turns around, the lit cigarette between his lips. "Something I learned a long time ago," he says before dodging a right cross and connecting with two left jabs. "Vampires who name themselves after Cyrus, or Darius, or any other Persian King for that matter, do it to sound tough, because they're not tough." Cyrus charges. Devlin flips him over his shoulder so that his opponent's back slams down onto a pool table. Dev takes two balls out of the pockets and boxes Cyrus's ears, which start bleeding. While Cyrus is too woozy to stand up, Dev grabs a cue stick. Everyone expects him to stake Cyrus. Instead, he hurls the stick through his girlfriend's heart. "Anyone else want to see who has the biggest wrinklies, step on up," Devlin says as he walks back to his table. It went exactly like he used to watch Spike do it. Except for the billiard balls. That was Dev's little innovation. Spike preferred to dust the opponent. Devlin sits down and finishes his beer. "We were talking about a Slayer?"

Lonnie takes a few seconds to recover from the shock of Devlin's impressive exhibition. But he's determined not to cede leadership to this usurper. "You trying to Bogart my kill?"

"I've already killed one. Now I'd like to see how someone else does it."

"Hey finders keeper, man," Howard tells him. Devlin rolls his eyes. Definite lackey.

"Does this Slayer have anyone helping her out?"

"She's got friends," Tiffany responds. "But they won't be much help. They were nothing before she became little miss supergirl."

"Do you know what the most common way of dying in a fight is? While you're killing one person, someone else stakes you in the back. They don't need special powers to do that. I have no doubt that the three of you, working together, can make quick work of a single Slayer. Provided she's alone. If she isn't, then you need someone to watch your back."

"And what's in it for you?," a suspicious Lonnie wants to know.

"All the tasty non-Slayer kiddies I can eat. In case you haven't noticed, Slayers are proliferating like kudzu. They work together. We'll have to do the same if we want to survive."

"So at this point, it was your intention to kill Debbie," Fred assumes.

"Of course. I thought she was working for Buffy."

"That makes a difference?"

"It makes all the difference. Five hundred Slayers working independently doesn't keep me up during the day. Fifty Slayers working together, now that's positively terrifying. Power can't be harnessed without organization. Just ask your employer."

Meanwhile, Debbie relays her side of the story to Angel. "Tiffany was a cheerleader who went to a party in Mission Viejo and never came back. Actually, she came back a few nights later. But, well, it wasn't exactly her." Angel chuckles, offending Debbie. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Only that, it sounds to me as if she figured out what you were before you did."

"Okay. I suppose it's ironic if you're not the one who nearly got killed."

"Tiff led us to Debbie's house," Devlin tells Fred. "The lights were off. It was a little after nine. Too early for her to be asleep. So we camped out until she returned."

"I don't have a car. But Cynthia's house is like a five minute walk from mine. So I walked home. That's I saw Tiffany standing in the middle of the street right outside my driveway."

"Hello Debbie."

"Where ya been, Tiff?"

"Met a guy. He put things in a whole new perspective for me."

"Knocked you up. Good luck with that." Debbie turns to her left and walks up her driveway. Tiffany grabs her and hurls Debbie to the ground. "What the hell?"

"Not so much fun when the shoe's on the other foot." Deb stands up and winces. Her elbows are skinned. She tosses her book bag on the lawn.

"You and me?," Debbie asks with a cocky grin as she limbers up. "This should be fun. Heck, I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

Tiffany goes bumpy. "Me too." Debbie gasps. Tiffany grabs her and pushes Debbie to the ground, holding her down and trying to bite her. Debbie struggles to push Tiffany away. She's panicking. Tiffany's transformation was most unexpected, not to mention inconceivable. After a few seconds, she puts her right hand around Tiffany's throat and lands a left hook to her face before throwing her to the right. She stands up and notices Lonnie and Howard, also with the yellows eyes and big teeth and funny foreheads. She's shocked speechless. Tiffany also gets up. "You didn't think you were the only who could throw down, did you?" The three of them charge Debbie. She turns and runs, getting about sixty feet before Lonnie pulls her down. She puts her feet on his chest and pushes him away. When she stands up, Howie leaps at her. She grabs him and throws the vampire to her left. He lands on a neighbor's lawn. Debbie runs back towards her own house. Tiffany trips her up. She backs away as the three vampires slowly approach. They can smell her fear.

"They were cheating," Dev tells Fred. "Debbie had never seen a vampire before. She was obviously unarmed. It was wrong."

"Killing can be wrong? I didn't know that it could, from your point of view."

"There are protocols when it comes to fighting Slayers. No gunning them down. No spears tossed or arrows fired from behind a bush. It has to be hand-to-hand. And they have to know what you are, since you know what they are. Otherwise there's no prestige in the kill."

"You didn't like her yet?," Fred asks. "It was just principle?," she adds doubtfully.

"I fell for Debbie the moment I saw her," Dev replies, confirming Fred's assumption. "She was beautiful. Powerful yet vulnerable. Arrogant yet frightened. The other Slayers I've encountered weren't capable of that natural, human range of emotions. I suppose you can't truly love someone until you've seen them weakened, broken down, desperate. That's when you have a chance to glimpse inside their soul."

"So how can she love you?"

"I may lack a conscience. But I do have a soul."

"Sounds like semantics to me."

"It's about what defines you: the human or the demon. I'll explain later."

"I'm being attacked by these monsters. I've never felt so afraid. It's like I'd entered another world when I realized I had these powers, and this was the end of the line. The absurd conclusion to an absurd little odyssey."

Debbie knows they can chase her down. And she assumes that if she gets inside her house, they can follow her in. Can't run. Can't hide. Boy, did she ever wish she had a car. In theory, that seemed like the only possible way out. Tiffany leaps at her. Debbie kicks her away with her right foot. The men are more experienced, and understand what needs to be done. As Lonnie slowly closes with Debbie, Howard dashes round behind her. Lonnie shifts to Debbie's right as Tiffany moves in on her left, completing the encirclement. Debbie realizes she's in deep trouble. She decides to go for Tiffany, who seems to be the weakest. Meanwhile, Devlin's run across the street and broken off a wooden plank from the railing a neighbor's backyard pool deck. When Debbie moves towards Tiffany, she steps back, and Lonnie grabs her right arm while Howie grabs her left. Tiffany now steps forward for the kill, biting the left side of Debbie's neck. She screams out in pain and bewilderment. Just then, Devlin's racing back across the street. Without breaking stride, he hurls his improvised three foot-long stake at Tiffany's back from thirty feet away. "Hey. That hurts!," she whines just before turning to dust. Devlin runs up and grabs the stake before it falls to the ground.

Debbie moans with pain and exhaustion as she gets a look at Devlin. Slicked-back black hair. Black trench coat. This doesn't look promising. "Change of plans, boys," Dev says before downing Howie with a left hook. Lonnie tosses Debbie to the grass and attacks Devlin, who floors him with a leaping right roundhouse kick. Howard makes a run for it. Devlin leaps twenty five feet through the air, tackles him, gets Howie on his back and stakes him. Lonnie rushes up and kicks Devlin in the back of the head with his left foot.

"I don't know why I ever trusted you," Lon declares as Dev rolls onto his back and looks up at his adversary.

"Because you had no choice," Devlin replies before sweeping Lonnie's legs with a right hook kick. They both rise to their feet. "I would have just followed you here, anyway. Best show in town." Dev blocks a right hook kick and a left roundhouse kick before hitting Lonnie in the nose with a swing of his 2x4. "Make that best show in the whole county." Devlin kicks him in the stomach with his right foot then pops him in the face with a left hook. "Of course, that's not saying much." He lands a right jab and right hook before dusting Lonnie. Dev turns to look at Debbie, who's just stood up. He smiles, confident that she'll welcome her hero with open arms.

"Aaaiiiiggggghhhhhh!!!!," Deb shrieks before running away at top speed.

"That's the thanks I get for saving your life!?," Devlin complains. Then he feels his forehead. "Bugger," he sighs before going back to his human face and giving chase. Four blocks and a quarter of a mile later, he catches up and grabs her left arm, spinning Deb around. She lands a right hook to his face. "Talk about ingratitude. You'd be dinner for three if it wasn't for me." She lands another right hook. "Ow!! What did I ever do to you? Oh, that's right. I rescued you from certain death." She hits him in the gut with a left uppercut.

"I think your instincts were absolutely correct," Angel tells Debbie, inviting a scowl. "You had every right to be suspicious." And you still do, he would have added if Angel didn't believe that would cause her to attack him. He knew better than to provoke a Slayer.

"They disappeared. How did they do that?," she asks Devlin as she tries to catch her breath. "Come to think of it, how did they bite me!"

"They're vampires," he deadpans.

"What!??"

"I'm sure you've heard of the concept. Guess what? They're real."

"They're vampires."

"They WERE vampires. Now they're dust on your front lawn."

"So, by your insane crazy, acid-trip logic, you're also a vampire!"

"Guilty as charged." She connects with a right jab to his nose. "Not bad. But you need to learn to mix it up a little more. Fight with both hands. And don't give me that look."

"What look?"

"The I belong in a mental hospital' look."

"No. This is the I want you to get the Hell away from me before I kill you' look."

"Like to see you try." Deb attacks. Dev backs up and puts his hands out. "Hey. Settle down. It was a joke! I want to help you."

Debbie laughs. "Now that's a joke."

"I'm serious."

"Why should I trust you?" Dev drops the wood, spins Deb around so he's behind her, goes bumpy and puts his fangs to her jugular. She tries to break free, but he's too strong.

"Because if I wanted you dead, you'd already be dead. Most vampires bite lower down, near the collarbone. That gives you plenty of time. But I bite you hear, I rip open your artery in split-second, and I can just walk away and leave you for dead. No hope of rescue. No chance of survival. Oh, and if you try to fight back, you're bleeding out before you can even lay a hand me. Devlin pushes her to the ground and she rolls along the pavement. He returns to his human face. Given her bloody elbows, bloody knees, bloody neck and pounding heart that he could feel when he held her close, it took quite a bit of will power to resist the temptation to finish her off right then and there.

"Real smooth. Convince me you're a psycho. Now I totally trust you. And the whole Christian Slater in Heathers' getup really doesn't help you in the credibility department."

Devlin is insulted. "Oh. Oh! Now that's uncalled for. I had this look first. Anyway, it's not even my look. Not all of it, anyway. The coat . . . I don't usually . . . I don't know what I was thinking."

"I do. Before you kill me, you want me to make me trust you. You probably get off on that. Like a lot of serial killers."

"Oh please! Give me some credit. That's the last thing I'm into. I don't like to dawdle any more than necessary. And in case you haven't noticed, when it comes to me killing you, no dawdling necessary."

"Are you always this freakishly charmless?"

"Only when I'm trying to do someone a favor."

"A favor? You set me up!"

"You don't know what you are. Would you like to know?"

"I'd rather know what you are."

"You're a Slayer."

"Excuse me?"

"A Vampire Slayer. That's why you're so strong. You didn't think you were given those powers just to lord it over your classmates?"

"What do you mean given?"

"They haven't gotten to you yet."

"Who? Can the pronouns, Lestat."

"Hey! Enough with the insulting comparisons. I'll just let that one slide, on account of your ignorance. Used to be there was one girl in the world who had what you had. She'd fight the demons until they killed her, then someone else would take over. At any one time, there'd be hundreds of girls who could get the nod. Only a handful were unfortunate enough to be chosen before they got to old. Slayers are like gymnasts – if Bela Karolyi doesn't come to see you by the time you're eighteen, he's never coming. But then, sometime last summer, the rules changed. All the girls were given the power. There are hundreds like you, all over the world."

"Good. Now why don't you go bother one of them?"

"Because, if I had, you would be dead. I didn't do this to you. I didn't make you a target."

"Then who did?"

"A bunch of do-gooders. They go around finding the girls they've changed, and train them to fight vampires, protect the innocent, make the world a better place."

"They find them, and then they train them." Debbie laughs. "In a school?" Like the one the X-Men go to?"

"Well, no. They're in Rome, not Westchester. Everyone has the exact same power. And they did this to you. Far as I know, the Professor doesn't make the mutations. That would have been, well, cruel and self-indulgent of him. Here's what I know, which isn't a lot: last year, a bunch of demons went after these girls and tried to kill them all."

"Demons. Like you?"

"Worse. Meaner. A lot uglier."

"Don't flatter yourself."

Devlin laughs this off. "The active Slayer tried to defend these girls. Eventually, the well-meaning do-gooders came to the conclusion that the only way to protect the girls was to make them all Slayers. That way, they could protect themselves. The side effect was that all future nominees would have the same thing happen to them."

"Meaning me."

"They've been going around the world rounding up girls like you, taking them away and training them."

"And what if they say no?"

"I'm guessing most don't. Being around all the others makes them feel safe. Plus, I'm sure there's a certain esprit de corps aspect to the whole thing. I don't know what they do to those who turn down the offer. It's not as if they can kidnap someone without their family putting up a fuss." This gives Debbie pause, though she's still far more suspicious of Devlin than of these unseen do-gooders he describes. "I'd imagine that in poorer countries the parents might welcome the chance to have one less mouth to feed, one less dowry to pay. Not to mention the large, unenlightened swaths of the world where women are supposed to be obedient and subservient. A willful, super-powered young woman would hardly make a good wife to a husband who expects to dominate and control her."

"You're a vampire."

"That's already been established."

"These Slayers, this Queen Slayer who rounds them all up, she does it to kill vampires."

"For Rome's sake, I hope so. Imagine the damage she could do with an army like that."

"This is bad for you."

"Not necessarily. I love a good fight. And their blood tastes really good. The more the better, from my point of view. It's the dumber, weaker vampires who are shaking in their boots. Like the ones I just killed."

"Are you coming on to me?"

Devlin scoffs at the notion. "I've threatened your life. I've bragged about killing your kind. In what sick, perverted world does that count as a come-on?" He wants to sound serious, but given all he knows, Dev's being more-than-a-little tongue-in-cheek.

"Why else wouldn't you kill me?," Debbie demands to know, walking towards Devlin and, for the first time in their confrontation, gaining confidence.

"Because I want to help you."

"Oh puh-leaze! How stupid do you think I am?"

"Actually, I think you're rather smart. TIff told me what you've been up to. Forming your little gang. Exploiting your powers to turn the social tables. I'm impressed."

"Now with the flattery. What's next: tell me how pretty I look?"

"Sounds to me as if you're already well aware of that fact. So what if we're in agreement on that particular topic? Now isn't the time to question my motives." He tosses his wooden weapon over to her. "I think you saw how it's done. If you don't trust me, go right ahead." She pauses for a few seconds then thrusts for his heart. He grabs it with both hands when the point is almost against his skin and pushes her down to the ground. "Okay! We'll have to work on trust. Right now, I'll be happy to fall back on need." Debbie stands up and stays ten feet away from Dev. When he steps towards her, she steps back and holds the stake out for protection.

"Close enough, freak. Yep, this is just what I need. A psycho killer who vants to drink my bluud' to watch over me."

"You think I'm the only one who knows? Tiffany told dozens of others. And they'll be after you soon enough. You want to take them all on by yourself, go right ahead."

"You suck as a con man."

"You would be discovering if there's an afterlife if it wasn't for me."

"The perfect setup. Try to make me grateful. And these others you mentioned. The perfect follow-up. Create a job for you to fill. All designed to bring us closer. Honestly, it's a lot of effort on your part. You must really not get any."

"Okay Debbie," Devlin says as he slowly backs away. "I'm sure your friends and family will be eager to help protect you. Provided they buy your story about vampires and the like. Or maybe it's best if they don't. You know how strong Tiff and her boys were. Bringing your friends into this will just get them killed. Best if you use someone expendable. Say, a guy you could care less about. Boy likes a girl, he'll do anything to impress her. Who better to exploit? Chances are, they'll kill me before I get the chance to kill enough of them to win you over. By the way, I'd get home now if I were you. No telling who's hiding out between here and your front door." Devlin vanishes.

"Promising beginning," Angel observes. "So what went wrong?," he asks with a smirk. Deb looks like she's ready to sock him.

"He didn't continue hiding in the shadows, waiting until I was in danger, and then leaping out of nowhere to save me. If that was the case, I would have been sure he was only trying to get in my pants. Dev did the opposite. He went after them. Attacked their nests. Dusted them before they could even come here to hurt me."

"And that made you believe he was serious about his stated intentions?"

"That and the fact that Dev treats me better than any guy ever has."

"Sounds like you've had bad luck in that department."

"Sounds like you haven't been a teenager for a long, long time. He's sweet. He's sensitive. He risked his life to help me even when I showed no interest in him. At times, against way greater odds than I just described."

"I think I know where he gets that from," Angel remarks in an obvious reference to Spike.

"There are lotsa evil, horrible people with souls. Why can't there be one person without a soul who can be good to one other person?"

"Because that's impossible."

"For you."

"For everyone."

"How do you know? Maybe Dev's special. Maybe you were just . . . ordinary."

"I was never ordinary," a wounded Angel snaps.

"Okay. Worse than most. Maybe the worst. What if Dev's better than most? The best, even? There's gotta be a gradient, right?"

Now Angel fears for her. "You don't get it. Debbie, you're messing with forces - "

"I don't understand. That's why I'm still alive."

"And it's why you won't be much longer if you keep at it."

"Why should I trust you? The last Slayer who trusted you got shipped off to Europe."

"I had nothing to do with that."

"Really? I heard you nabbed her yourself."

"Who did you hear that from?"

"Aren't you supposed to be overcoming MY suspicions? Best way to start is to tell the truth." She's clever. Angel thinks this over. He tells her the whole truth, then Debbie knows he wanted Dana to stay in Los Angeles. But she also knows that Buffy didn't trust him. And if Buffy didn't trust him, why should Debbie? Angel decides that it's best to lie about the details in order to impart a greater truth.

"Dana was untrained. She didn't understand her powers. What's more, she had been attacked by some men, some human men, and she fought back. And she killed them, accidentally. But the authorities were after her just the same. It was best to get her someplace safe, out of the country, around people who could understand and help her. You're already trained. You're slaying vampires. You're making the world a safer place."

"Thanks to Devlin," she reminds Angel, knowing this will annoy him.

"My point is, there's no reason for you to leave here. Buffy will recognize that."

"And what if she doesn't? I'm working with vampires. That's the sort of thing that would make other Vampire Slayers suspicious. Except for her, of course," Debbie adds with a smile. "Then again, from what Dev tells me, her situations were a little different than mine." Angel winces at the word "situations," reminding him as it does of Buffy's relationship with Spike. What's worse, it seems to place that "relationship" on the same plane with the one he had with Buffy.

"I don't see how she could know about Devlin and his friends from all the way over in Italy. All she'll know is there's a Slayer somewhere in southern Orange County."

"Unless you tell her the details. Talk about an opportunity for blackmail." Angel's original intention was to give the impression that Buffy and him were at odds in order to gain Debbie's trust, since she obviously had no trust for Buffy because Devlin had filled her mind with lies. Now he decides to take the opposite approach. Perhaps he can benefit from Debbie's assumption that he and Buffy are in cahoots.

"I'll tell her you're fighting the good fight. I'll tell her you can best help the cause remaining right where you are. And if she disagrees, I'll do everything in my power to keep her away from you. This is my town."

"Shouldn't your town be Los Angeles?" He sighs with frustration at her smartass comeback.

"When I say town,' I mean the whole metropolitan area. This is my turf. Buffy knows that. She has the rest of the world to worry about. When it comes to this corner of the globe, she's more than happy to defer to my judgement."

"So Angel. You wanna be the vampire who's got my back? Get in line."

NEXT: Oz pays Angel a visit, and meets fellow werewolf Nina.. Anne has a very frightening encounter with Spike, the vampire who scared her straight by nearly killing her more than six years ago. And Devlin starts messing with the firm's computers, to hilarious effect. Unless your name is Angel. Then Devlin's antics are anything but humorous.


	13. Curious Couples

Devlin comes close to befriending Fred. Deb and he talk about how they hope to thwart Buffy's efforts. Meanwhile, Giles decides to pick up the rogue Slayer as soon as possible, and discusses his plans with a fetching new colleague who's appeared in this story before.

Harmony finds Spike wandering down Hollywood Boulevard at one in the morning. She crosses the street and walks quickly to catch up with him. "Struck out again?," she jokes. He turns around. "Don't worry. It's not you, it's them. Have you tried Venice Beach? I hear the girls who hang out there are a lot more friendly."

"Monday's usually a slow night for the vamps."

"Guess so. We're standing in the middle of Blood Alley.' If they're not biting here - "

"They're probably nibbling somewhere else. Someplace where no one's hunting them."

"Did you love him?"

"Him? Wh-which him?" He's worried she has the completely wrong idea about Angelus and him in the old days.

"Devlin."

"No. Of course not. I wus always fond of the boy. But love never entered into the equation."

"Did he love you?"

"I doubt it. He looked up to me. Took after me. Had a certain strong affection for me. But it was never love."

"I don't mean the kind where he wants to have sex with you. There are other kinds."

"We were close. But we argued and fought constantly. He kept striking out on his own. If he loved me, like a father or something, he would have hung around longer."

"Why him? What attracted you? You can see hundreds of people in a night. But he's the one you sired."

"The way he talked with his friends, the way he controlled the conversation, he looked like he had the makings of a leader. And once we got talking, it didn't take me long to notice how smart he was. He had brains, ambition, originality. You got those, the strength follows automatically."

"But what was in it for you?"

"After killing my second Slayer, I felt like I had done everything. Everything except raise another vamp. Plus, I was about to turn one hundred."

"So it was a father thing. Or was it a mid-life crisis thing?"

"Murray Gell-Mann was far more important than Richard Feynman," Devlin declares.

"Of course," Fred concurs. "Strangeness. Quarks. It's impossible to imagine the past forty years of sub-particle physics without him."

"Not that Feynman was THAT overrated. He also won a Nobel Prize. And he was talking about nanotechnology all the way back in 1959."

"Helping develop Quantum Electrodynamics ain't nothing to sneeze at."

"But QED has nothing to do with why Feynman was way more famous than Gell-Mann. Feynman was showman. He had all those pithy little aphorisms."

"Physics is like sex. Sure, it may give some practical results - "

"But that's not why we do it!"

Fred thinks about this. "That one never quite made sense to me."

"Or to any other Physics major." Fred takes offense.

"Like engineers get any more action," she responds, since Dev was majoring in electrical engineering (and minoring in classics) at the time Spike sired him. "I know how dateless the computer geeks were when I went to school. I can only imagine how much nerdier you guys were twenty years earlier, before programming went mainstream."

"I never claimed otherwise. What were we talking about?"

"Physics."

"No. Public relations. It's not just about what you achieve. It's how you sell those achievements. Feynman was that rare scientific genius who was an extrovert. Gell-Mann was a bigger genius, but an introvert. So he doesn't get to testify before Congress, or write a best-selling book. The joke was that after Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman' became a hit," Gell-Mann tried to write his own book of anecdotes. Only it ended up being called Of Course. Now I See That You Are Completely Correct, Professor Gell-Mann'."

Fred laughs. "That's so true. They taught at Cal Tech,so I had professors who'd worked with both of them. By the way, Gell-Mann's alive."

"He is?"

"He lives in New Mexico. You were talkin' about him in the past tense."

"My mistake. But my point still holds: What matters most is publicity, likability, Q ratings. It's the exact same way with vampires."

"Physicists are like vampires?," Fred asks herself. "That's even more wacky than saying physics is like sex." She's imagining Angel and Spike in lab coats, fumbling around with a bubble chamber, trying to figure out what the bloody thing's supposed to do. Angel asking Spike if he remembered to turn off the particle accelerator. Spike responding that he did. Angel not believing him. Spike insisting he turned it off because the collisions of sub-atomic particles didn't produce the cool explosions Spike had imagined they would, causing him to lose all interest in the contraption.

"Publicity trumps achievement. Take Dracula. The guy's a loser with a capital L."

"He's real?"

"And just as boring as the movies show him to be. No one who knows any other vampires would look at Dracula and say Now there is a sexy vampire.' You yourself have already met two who are far sexier." Fred doesn't look so sure. "The second one's Angel, not me."

"Oh."

"I'm probably far too young for you. Though my criticisms of Angel are diverse and voluminous, he's clearly superior to Vladi in every way. Though that is setting the bar rather low."

"You've met him?"

"Back in '93. He was just as underwhelming as Spike said he would be."

"Spike? And Dracula?"

"Used to know each other pretty well back in fin de siecle London. Which must mean he also knew Angelus. Though of course those two could have met far earlier. And probably did. Dru told me Angelus had a thing for Romania back when it was still the provinces of Wallachia, Transylvania, Moldavia, Bessarabia and Bukovina. I'm sure he kicked old Drac's ass. Or at least got in a few good hits before the wuss turned into smoke and floated away. Guy can't fight worth a lick. And those vampirettes of his? Fewer people have been inside Space Mountain."

"You're putting me on."

"I swear I'm not. Dracula's real. All of Anne Rice's are fictional. Although Akasha might be loosely based on a vampire from the Egyptian Pre-Dynastic period."

"Do I look gullible? And how did we get here from Murray Gell-Mann?"

"P.R. over talent. Dracula's like Feynman. I'm like Gell-Mann. Angel is Neils Bohr, and Spike is Wolfgang Pauli." At first, Fred laughs at Devlin's ridiculous analogies. But she stops laughing when something occurs to her.

"Pauli was taught by Bohr. He spent his first few years working for Bohr in Copenhagen."

"See. Just when you think I can't get any more ridiculous, I start making sense. Perhaps I was making sense all along."

"Maybe in your own mind you were."

"It's a shame that I haven't yet won you over," Devlin laments. "On the bright side, I have broken down nine of your ten layers of prejudicial revulsion."

"How awful of me. I discriminated on the basis of the whether or not you have a soul."

"The professor who sent you on that five year sabbatical abroad. Didn't he have a soul? Yet you assume a soul makes all the difference in the world. Perhaps it does for some people. But for me, it was just an alteration of incentives. I've never been evil. Never sought out the innocent. Never revelled in causing suffering for its own sake. I give people what they deserve."

"You're hardly an objective judge of that."

"So I'm wrong to believe that Deb deserves to live past the age of twenty?" Devlin hears Angel's car coming down the street. "How time flies." Fred stands. Dev does likewise. "One thing I forgot to mention. You guys aren't just using Wolfram & Hart's resources to help people? You're also using your positions to get inside their command structure, learn their secrets, probe their weaknesses? Okay, I'll take that blank stare as a no." He continues to talk as they walk towards the door. "You are aware that they can fire Angel and the rest of you at any moment, and there's nothing you can do about it."

Angel pulls into the driveway. "As first dates go, that wasn't so bad," Debbie jokes. Angel doesn't appreciate the humor.

"This is my business card. It has my office number. On the back, I wrote my cell number and my home number. Call anytime."

She looks at the card. "You guys must be desperate for a Slayer of your own," she kids.

"I don't want to exploit you. Frankly, I don't need to. I think you're overestimating your own power." If she wasn't going to be serious, he might as well do likewise.

"So you just came here because you have no social life and needed something to do at night," she says with a smile to indicate that her poking is all in good fun. He can tell she's beginning to trust him. As Debbie gets out, Devlin finishes his pitch to Fred.

"Think Evita.' Argentina, 1940. You're the nation's duly elected civilian leaders. But the army's loyal to its generals, not to you. And if the generals tell the troops to storm the presidential palace, you're outta there. Everyday could be your last. As long as you have the keys to the building, you need to make the most of that access."

"You think we should snoop around. Wouldn't that actually get us fired?"

"Not if you do it right." Debbie opens the front door. Dev and her smile at each other. "I get my girl back. He gets his. I hope this was one of you more pleasurable times as a hostage." As Fred walks out the door, she gives Devlin a quick glance and a tentative half-smile. "Halfway through that tenth layer," he says to himself as he closes the door. Fred gets in the car and Angel quickly drives off.

"I'm sorry I put you through that," Angel apologizes.

"It wasn't too bad. He's very eager to be liked."

"I thought he took after Spike."

"I think this trait goes back to when he was human. How did you and the Slayer get along?"

"Pretty well. Hardly what you would expect from the headlines: Slayer Shacking Up With Slayer-Killing Vamp' Slayer Uses Muscle To Rule School.' Her moral center's still intact. The interesting part is that she's not attracted to Devlin because he's bad. She's attracted to him because she thinks he's good."

"Poor girl's in for a rude awakening."

"If that ever happens, she'll know how to handle it."

"You really like this girl."

"Not like that."

"Angel, I know. She's young enough to be your — never mind." Angel lets the unintentional insinuation about Buffy slide.

"She's very spirited. And tough. Even before she got her power. Debbie has the heart of a warrior. She's a fighter."

"Is Dracula real?"

"Smaller than life. A vampire lives five centuries among hundreds of thousands of Gypsies, and not once do any of them feel the need to Curse him. How dangerous can he be?"

"Was Angel on his best behavior?," Devlin asks Debbie as she gets ready for bed while he works at the computer.

"Perfect gentleman."

"Does he know you're a one-vampire woman?"

"Angel's not hot for me."

"Then something must be wrong with him. You're definitely more beautiful than Buffy. Besides, I think she's getting a little long in the tooth for him."

"To Angel, I'm like a mentoring project. That's all."

"Not attracted to you. Honestly, I'm insulted," Devlin jokes. "Me and him are going to have a conversation about what his problem is."

"No problem. He just knows that you've ruined me for all other vampires."

"Maybe he's not as bloody stupid as I thought he was." Debbie sits on his lap. Dev gazes up at her.

"You don't really worry about that sorta thing, do ya Dev?"

"Of course not. And you shouldn't either. Just as I've ruined you, you've ruined me for all other women, mortal and unmortal. (Devlin doesn't like immortal' since so few vampires even make it to the century mark.) We've ruined each other."

"Gosh. You make it sound so romantic."

"Oh no!," Angel says, putting his left hand to his forehead as he drives. "Why did I do that?"

"Do what?"

"I gave Debbie my home number. Which means I also gave it to her boyfriend."

"And you're afraid he'll — what? — make a couple prank calls?"

"Or pass it on to every vampire he knows. I keep forgetting he's part of the equation because I wish he weren't."

"What do you worry about?," Devlin asks Debbie.

"Buffy."

"I told you I'll handle that."

"I know. Your hacker friend in Eugene is doing you a favor in exchange for you not killing him."

"And because he loves his work. Archie knows it's an idle threat. I can't kill someone I like."

"He figured out how to hack into the Council's e-mail server, and then told you how to do it yourself," Debbie reports, listlessly repeating what Devlin tells her every time she gets worried. "Are you reading their mail right now?"

"Sure am. Here's Andrew going on and on about nothing important. He does this practically everyday. And I have to sift through each one just in case something important is buried inside all this irrelevant, sycophantic bullcrap. Why does Buffy suffer this fool?"

"Are you sure they'd even mention that they were coming? These people live in the same city. They could always do business face-to-face."

"Whenever they are sending a team to pick up a new Slayer, everyone in the organization gets notified by a mass e-mail. Also, they reserve plane tickets on-line, which means someone always gets a confirmation letter listing their itinerary and flight numbers. We'll see them coming from eight thousand miles away."

"How come they haven't found you out?"

"Because I don't do anything. I just look. If, say, I started screwing with someone's account or tried to clone one of their credit card numbers, chances are they'd find me out pretty quickly. But they're not the CIA. They have no reason to fear that an enemy's reading their correspondence. Whoever heard of a vampire hacker?"

"But what good is being prepared if they send more muscle than we can deal with? It wouldn't be so hard to overpower us. 'Specially with the armies they got."

"It doesn't matter who they send. Or how many. They won't lay a hand you."

"No deaths. Remember."

"Why would I make corpses? A police investigation is the last thing we need. We want them out of the state as fast as possible, which requires them to be alive. Corpses are terrible at fleeing with their tails between their legs. You do trust me?"

"Honey, I burned that bridge a long time ago. Burned all the bridges. Now it's just the two of us, trapped on the desert island that is our relationship."

"And you accuse ME of being unsentimental." They kiss. Devlin picks her up and carries her over to the bed. Once they're down on the bed, he grabs hold of her shirt. But before he can take it off of her, Debbie sits up.

"Wait. Just wait." Dev also sits up.

"Something wrong? You're not pregnant, are you?," he jokes.

"Do you think we're getting too predictable?"

"Predictable! Was tonight predictable?"

"I mean this part. Every night we talk, cuddle, get into bed and make love for an hour if it's a school night, two hours on weekends."

"You watch the clock!?"

"No. Not until after. Ya know, before I fall asleep."

"It's a very action-packed hour."

"It's great. But it used to seem, I don't know, epic."

"Now that's unfair. Every time I go long, you complain that you're not getting enough sleep."

"I'm talking about intensity. Maybe it's because we've been living together for four months. It's natural for couples to settle into a routine."

"So we change the venue. The house does have six rooms."

"When was the last time we did something new? Something, uninhibited?"

"My Mustang?"

"No. That's old. But we could go somewhere in it." She thinks back to the place where Angel took her. "The beach!"

"Isn't it a little too cold for that?"

"At this hour? Yeah. Guess you're right."

"Wanna spar? That always heats things up."

"No," Debbie says with a yawn. "Too tired." She leans back on the bed and stares dejectedly at the ceiling. "Welcome to Dullsville."

"Population two. At least it's not overcrowded." Dev takes off his shirt and lies on top of Deb. They continue smooching as the two of them sit up and Debbie quickly removes her shirt. They embrace again and roll down onto the floor. Once she felt Dev's flesh press against hers, Debbie's malaise was over. The two of them moan and grunt as they roll and thrash around, knocking the wheeled desk chair first into the dresser, then through the open doorway and into the hall. "As routines go, this one's not too bad," Dev jokes before Deb grabs him and pulls him back down.

Fred meets up with Wesley back at work, and they repair to the executive lounge, with its leather couches and sixty inch television screen. Fred brings over a bowl full of microwave popcorn and sits to Wesley's left, putting right leg over his left leg. He puts his left arm around her shoulders, and they happily snuggle while Wesley decides which show to choose on BBCAmerica-onDemand. He selects "Waking the Dead."

"Don't ya want something more relaxing after a hard day?," Fred asks. "This always reminds me of work," she says about a show that focuses on forensic science, autopsies and crime-solving.

"I like Spencer Jordan. He's grown so much as a character. He's become this scintillating combination of intensity, intelligence and moral torment."

Fred laughs. "Ah'm sorry. But are you identifying with him?" She giggles some more.

"Out of all the characters, he is the one I identify with most. I focus on what's underneath the actor's skin," he adds, addressing the fact that the character's played by a black actor. Hence Fred's chuckles.

"Do you identify me with Frankie?," she asks about the young, female forensic scientist.

"She is highly intelligent. But you're a far more creative thinker. And I can't imagine Frankie driving an ax through a demon's skull. Speaking of which, how was your evening with our enemy?"

"Devlin? He's no enemy. Just a potential enemy, I suppose."

"What did the two of you talk about?"

"Quantum Physics." Wesley laughs.

"No. Seriously."

"Ah'm serious. He's a real nerd; in addition to being a real killer. He spent most of the night talking about Spike. Well, about a whole different Spike than I know."

"You mean the Spike that's evil."

"WAS evil."

"Which you already knew. So why are you so shocked by anything Devlin could have told you?"

"You know my rule: don't ask questions you already know the answer to."

"While you knew Spike was evil, you still could not imagine him that way. What was abstract became concrete."

"You seem to be revelling in this."

"Do I sound like I'm revelling?"

"You are takin' satisfaction."

"I simply believe that you cannot know the measure of a man when a crucial section of his life is hidden from view."

"Good thing I don't hafta worry about that with you," Fred declares, both of them unaware that this is not the case.

Tuesday morning, shortly after eleven. Angel and Anne walk out of his office after their meeting. "Last time we met, you were scolding me for taking money from Wolfram & Hart. Now you're running it. Should I file this under irony, or hypocrisy?"

"The city would be a far worse place if someone else had my job."

"When during the last three years did you get over your fear of dirty hands?"

"I still haven't."

"Situational ethics, then?"

"I admit it. When it comes to fighting evil and protecting the innocent, I'm a Machiavellian. If the ends can't justify the means, what can?"

"I'm not criticizing you, Angel. I'm sure you have reasons which I can't understand, and I accept that. But there was a time when you didn't cut me the same slack."

"I was in a bad place when we met. It was wrong to exploit you for my own private vendetta. But that's in the past."

"Relax Angel. I trust you." Spike enters and walks towards Angel from behind.

"Good morning!" Angel turns around and prepares to be annoyed. Since he's no longer looking at Anne, he can't see the look of sheer terror on her face. "She's definitely your type. But wut happened to Nina?" As Spike steps closer, Anne backs away. Her whole body's shaking.

"You stay the hell away from me." Angel looks at the hyperventilating Anne and wonders why she's looking at Spike with such petrified perplexity. "Angel. Angel. I thought you killed his kind?" Spike grins, further terrifying Anne.

"Ooooh. A fan. Pleasure to meet you, love." He takes a step towards her, causing Anne to back up an additional fifteen feet.

"Is this one of the dirty little deals you have to make for the greater good?," she asks Angel.

"Settle down, love. I won't bite. Gave that up a while back."

"You are a sick, sick monster. Angel, can you hit him for me, let him know this sort of thing is not funny?"

"I'd love to. But Anne, what's going on?"

"Did I attack you? Oh no. Oh no. I killed one of your friends. Family? Please tell me I didn't make you an orphan."

"You bit me!"

"Then why are you alive? I don't mean to sound callous, but that's what tends to happen."

"You don't remember."

"No, I don't. I'm sorry for biting you, and for forgetting that I bit you. So I didn't kill anyone you knew?"

"Remember the vampire worshipping cult in Sunnydale?" Then it all comes flooding back.

"Ford! Him I did kill. But you probably don't hold that against me, since he did try to have you killed."

"Spike's the vampire?," Angel asks. "Spike was the vampire who scared you straight? And, also made you abandon the idea that vampires were sexually desirable." He couldn't help but add that last part.

"Now I remember you. You had on that fetching black number with the choker." Anne slaps his face with her right hand. "Guess some girls don't like compliments. Just so you know, if you hadn't been so distracting, I would've gotten to Buffy before she got to Dru, and you and all your friends would have been killed by the other vamps. So, in a way, you saved a lot of lives that night. I'm sorry if I scared you. But, if what Angel just said wus right, it ended up being for the best. For the both of us. I've changed. I have a soul. I'm good now."

Anne stares at Angel. "It's true," he reluctantly concedes. "The part about having a soul. The other two are open to debate." Anne's rendered speechless.

"I used to work for Buffy, in fact. Well, it wus more than a working relationship." Anne stares at Spike. She moves her eyes to look at Angel again. His uncomfortable demeanor says it all. Anne gulps and grabs her stomach. Buffy. Her inspiration. Her namesake. Consorting with the demon she had long viewed as the very personification of evil?

"I think I'm going to be sick." The elevator opens. She runs towards it. Spike holds open the door and tries to enter. She punches his nose with a right fist. "What part of stay the hell away from me don't you understand?"

"Wait a second? Who are you? How do you know Angel? Do you require the services of a champion? Since Big-Brow sold out, I've been the one on the ground, doing the actual life-saving." She knees him in the groin. He winces and steps back. "First impressions don't have to be lasting impressions!," he yells out as the door closes. Spike turns around and glares at Angel. "You could've done a better job of vouching for me. Whoever that was, she seemed to like you."

"Do you feel no contrition at all, or are you just not smart enough to know when to express it?"

"For what? I didn't do anything to that bird. Is there any evil for me to fight, or should I go check in on Fred?" Spike decides to do that, and walks away. "At least there's one woman around here I won't give the willies to." Problem is, now that Devlin's talked to Fred, that's not longer the case. That's not to say Spike will frighten Fred. But, at least for the next few days, she will feel a tad uneasy around him.

Meanwhile, in the Eternal City, Giles looks over intelligence reports with Gretchen. She is forty years old, five foot nine inches tall, with long legs, strong shoulders, straight black hair that extends to just above her shoulders, and dark blue eyes. She wears a navy blue skirt that stops a few inches above her knees, a matching blazer and a light blue blouse.

"One Slayer. Four vampires," Giles notes.

"And the vampires work for the Slayer?," Gretchen asks in disbelief.

"According to our source."

"You mean according to Andrew's source."

"Our source. Who happened to talk to Andrew. It's Roger. We've worked with him before. You know that he's credible."

"My quarrel isn't with the source."

"You don't trust Andrew."

"I don't question his loyalty. Only his competence."

"He's worked in this region before. Quite successfully, if you recall. And I'm sending him with the same team as before. Tabitha will be in charge."

"What's their plan? Attack or recruit?"

"Recruit, of course."

"But they'll attack the vampires."

"My guess is the vampires will flee the moment they see what they're up against."

"You don't think the girl will mind?"

"I hope she'll come to her senses. You yourself have retrieved Slayers we believed to be quite hostile. But once they discovered there were others like them, once they were given the chance to be part of a community - "

"They signed right up. I like to think I had something to do with their change of heart."

"We both know that Andrew lacks . . . presence."

"Among other things."

"Yet he makes that work for him. The girls are often intimidated when they first meet me or Robson. Andrew doesn't look or sound like an authority figure. That can be very important when making first contact. To a newcomer, it appears that the Slayers are more-or-less autonomous, and that Andrew's authority depends entirely upon their consent. The last thing we want a potentially rebellious Slayer to think is that we're taking them away to a boot camp or a boarding school."

"I understand. He's the honey that catches more flies."

"Besides, your presence is needed here." They both look away from each other and fidget nervously. "Next to Buffy, you're the best trainer I have. The girls always request you to lead them on their first field assignments. And you're doing a great job of training Dawn."

"She trains herself."

"Quite true. But she values the time you two spend together. To be honest, she gets rather lonely when you're away."

"Is she the only one?," Gretch asks with a smirk. Giles cleans his glasses.

"Of course not. Buffy likes having you around as well." She laughs at his ducking of the question. "Which reminds me: Our friend Silvio has given me a box at for tonight's performance of Turandot.' I was hoping you could join me."

"Teatro Costanzi?"

"I believe so."

"Who's singing the title role?"

"Umm, er, I, I'm not - "

"Just kidding, Rupert." Gretchen says with a smile. "Sounds like fun, but I'm not sure I have anything appropriate to wear."

"Nonsense. You have that black dress you wore to Adriana's Christmas party."

"With the matching heels? The night I wore my hair slightly curly?"

"Your hair hadn't been curly for nearly a month by then. And you wore your hair up on that particular evening." Gretchen smiles.

"Just checking. Good to know you're paying attention." She leaves the room. Giles smiles. Poor guy. Every time he falls for a woman in the workplace, she turns out to have a tragic connection to one of Buffy's boyfriends.

Writer's note: I know what you may be thinking, but this is very different. For one thing, Angelus killed one of Jenny Calendar's ancestors, but not anyone in her immediate family (until Uncle Janos). And Jenny/Jana concealed her true identity. Giles knows that Gretchen Oden was orphaned at the age of thirteen when vampires killed her entire family, and possibly sired her missing brother. But Gretchen does not know that Devlin is Herman Odenbach. To be honest, she's never even heard of Devlin. And she certainly doesn't know that Spike was the vampire who sired her brother and killed her sister. Given all this, perhaps it's for the best that Giles is not sending her on this mission. For Gretchen's sake, for Devlin's sake, and for Spike's. If you had twelve Slayers under your command, and you learned that the vampire who destroyed everyone you loved was in the neighborhood, what would you do?


	14. Werewolves in Heat

Oz shows up, meets Nina, and things get very hairy.

At half past six on Tuesday night, Nina walks into Angel's office. "Ready to go?"

"You bet. I suppose can put off these," he paused to see what they are, "employee evaluations until later." He stands up and walks towards her.

"We don't have to go out. We could stay in, like last night," she suggests with a smile.

"That was because I had a late meeting."

"You don't have to explain. I'm not complaining."

"I think it would be nice to go somewhere together. I'm not sure where. I've lived here now for almost five years, but this is actually my first date in this city."

"I suppose that's one of the upsides of immortality. You don't have to worry about squandering your youth," Nina says as they walk out the door into the lobby. He helps her with her coat, then puts his right arm around her shoulders.

"Boss? Boss? Is it okay for me to go home now?" Angel turns around.

"Harmony? What are you still doing here?"

"I decided to hang around. In case you needed me, Oz!?"

"What?," Angel asks. She's making less sense than usual.

"Oz! Great to see you. It's been so long!," she enthuses, glad to see any familiar face. Angel spins around to see Oz standing just in front of the elevator, looking incredibly confused.

"Since that night you tried to kill Willow." Oz looks at Angel for an explanation.

"Harmony is my secretary." Oz appears even more confused. "I wasn't in charge of hiring."

"Don't worry, Oz. I've changed." He looks at Angel again.

"Not like that. But we have an office policy against vampires drinking any human blood."

"I bet the other workers appreciate that," he comments with characteristic drollness. Oz looks around at the ten thousand square-foot, two stories-high space that is Angel's workplace. "Not as cozy as the last one."

"A lot's changed," Angel defensively explains. "I'm sure the same could be said for you." Oz thinks about this for a few seconds and shrugs.

"You can explain later. Or, not. I didn't come to chat."

"Some things do stay the same," Angel quips.

"I need help. I don't know who else to go to. There's this, this guy . . . " Oz loses his train of thought as he begins to stare at Nina.

"Is he trying to hurt you?," Angel asks. "Oh. Where are my manners. Oz, this is Nina. She's a werewolf. Which, I'm guessing you already know. Nina? Honey?" Now both of them are transfixed, staring at each other from fifteen feet away. He smells something strong and pungent is in the air. Then Angel looks horrified. "Pheromones?" Oz and Nina transform, leap at each other and fall to the ground. Harmony stands up and looks at the scene.

"She's trying to kill poor little Oz! No. She's, and he's . . . " Harmony puts her right hand to her mouth, gags and slowly backs away. "Ewww! Wolfy love! Hey! You two cut it out. I have to walk on that carpet every day. Angel, should I call security? We can't just . . . what if an important client walks in? This could be very embarrassing." Angel stands there, motionless, almost catatonic, his face even paler than usual. "I mean professionally embarrassing. Not personally embarrassing because your girlfriend is doing the nasty with — is she still your girlfriend when she's in wolfy form?" Angel pays no attention to Harmony. Some things haven't changed. "I'll call security." She runs back to her desk and picks up the phone. Most workers are gone for the day, and those still around and ensconced in their offices, so this event doesn't create a scene. "Hello. This is Harmony. We have two werewolves loose on the twenty fifth floor. Yes. Werewolves. Right outside your boss's office. Don't laugh at me. Look out the window? Why? They're right in front of me. Oh. It's not a full moon. Well tell that to them!!!" She hangs up in disgust. But the guard downstairs clicks on the monitor for Angel's lobby and sees what's happening. Within thirty seconds, a team of four commandos arrives, takes aim, fires, and puts two tranq darts in each of them. Their leader runs up to Angel.

"Sorry we're late, boss. Good to see you're not hurt. What do you want us to do?" Angel takes a couple seconds to snap out of it.

"Containment," he says, still recovering from the shock. "Separate cells."

"Of course. We don't want them tearing each other to pieces." The men shot before they looked long enough to figure out what was happening. But once they separate the two bodies, that becomes readily apparent. "Make sure you put the male on his back." The other men snicker. Angel retreats to his office. The werewolves are quickly wheeled away to a special elevator that leads to the underground detention facility. Angel sits down in his chair and stares at the wall. Gunn, Wes and Fred rush in, winded.

"We heard there was a code red," Wesley tells Angel. He just continues staring at the wall, not acknowledging his friends.

"Doesn't look like they did any damage," Fred notes.

"You must've killed 'em yourself before we got here," Gunn assumes.

"Angel?," Fred asks, trying to get his attention.

"She was taking me to an exhibit at the Getty."

"Oh dear Lord," Wesley declares. "Did something happen to Nina?"

Harmony barges in. "He's still got that look," she says with concern. "Poor guy."

"I only wish we coulda been here in time to stop it," Fred laments.

"How?," Harmony scoffs. "If Angel couldn't keep those two apart, how could any of you?"

"Which two?," Gunn asks.

"Let's take this outside," Harmony suggests. They look at Angel and realize this might be a good idea. Once they're outside, Harmony continues. "What are the odds of those two meeting? Talk about bad timing! Oz shows up right when Nina's leaving. Poor Angel."

"Oz?," Wesley asks. "From Sunnydale?"

"Lust at first sight. One moment he's making small talk with Angel. The next he's making whoopee with Angel's girlfriend. I wish I could get the awful image out of my head. All that fur."

"Of course," Wesley says to himself. "They're both werewolves. This sort of thing is known to happen."

"Full moon's not for more than a week," Fred reminds him.

"Good point."

"I tried telling that to the two of them, but they wouldn't listen," Harmony notes.

"Werewolves can go wolfy when there's not a full moon out?," Gunn asks.

"No. Of course not. It's impossible," Fred maintains.

"Unless a transformation is induced," Wesley points out.

"You'd need a ten thousand volt prod. And it would only work for a few seconds."

"I said it was disgusting. I didn't say it was kinky. They just changed."

"Entirely on their own?," Wesley asks.

"I heard Angel mutter something about fair-o-nomes right before it happened. What do those cute little garden elves have to do with any of this?"

"Pheromones," Fred says.

"You sayin' they were in heat?," Gunn asks, shaking his head. These were, after all, people they were talking about.

"Which would be perfectly normal behavior if they crossed paths while already in their werewolf forms," Wes explains. "They might feel a strong instinctive attraction as human beings, but lust in and of itself could not produce the energy needed to cause a transformation."

"Even if one of them hasn't gotten any for a really long time?," Harmony asks.

"Robert Louis Stevenson aside, sexual repression cannot turn a man into a monster," Wesley responds, referring to the creator of Jekyll and Hyde, though Angel might have taken it a bit more personally if he had heard it.

Downstairs, Oz wakes up. He sees the bars. "Oh no. Not again." Seems like every time the wolf comes out, he gets locked up. He tries to piece together what happened. Things are still a bit hazy. Angel. A blonde. She goes furry. Oz puts his hands to his face and shakes his head. "Real smart, Oswald," he whispers to himself. Angel's the one man who could save his life, and what does he do? He tries to mount his girlfriend. Then Oz stands up, leans against the concrete wall at the back of the cell and mulls over the details. Angel has a girlfriend? Things certainly have changed.

Nina wakes up and lets out a few high-pitched screams. She curls up in the back corner of her cell and starts sobbing. Oz walks forward to the bars and turns to the right, towards Nina. Their cells are separated by a foot of concrete. But she should be able to easily hear him through the front bars. "Hello? Is that you?" He tries very hard to remember her name. "Nina? Nina, it's Oz. We sort of met."

"What have I done? What am I doing here?," she asks herself.

"You know you're a werewolf, right?" She stands up, rushes towards the bars and looks to her left.

"Where's the goddam full moon? It's not that time of the month yet."

"You're right," Oz responds. "I had forgotten. It's been so long for me."

"That's not funny. Cut the sarcasm." Her fear has turned to anger. The glib cell mate isn't helping matters.

"No sarcasm. I've been wolf-free for close to four years. Well, I had been."

"It's not something you can get rid of."

"True. But I learned to control it. How long have you been?"

"Eight months."

"Rookie," he kids. "Six-and-a-half. Years." He pauses to evaluate the situation. "Is this where you usually go?"

"Usually by choice," she laments.

"I did that for about two years. Then some, stuff, happened, and I realized that was just a short-term fix. I had to come to terms with the wolf part of me, and learn to understand it."

"That's how you stopped changing?," Nina asks incredulously. "That's all?"

"It took a few months. And a few thousand miles." Nina laughs.

"Let me guess: you went up the mountain top and saw some swami in Nepal who taught you how to meditate."

"Actually, it was Tibet," a chagrined Oz replies. "Does it really sound that cheesy?"

"Guess now you'll need to come up with a better story."

"Can't. It's the truth. About six months later, I came home to see my ex-girlfriend. I was planning on us getting back together. Till I met her new girlfriend."

After a few seconds, Nina starts giggling. Oz couldn't possibly feel any more emasculated. "I'm sorry. That must've been a shock. I can only imagine . . ." She tries to imagine Angel leaving her for another guy. "Okay. I can't imagine."

"The wolf came out. I tried to attack her. During the day."

"So you're like a vampire," Nina concludes.

"How so?"

"Their fangs come out when they're angry. Or, when they want them to come out. If what you're saying's really true, and I'm still far from buying all of it, you can control when the werewolf comes out."

"No. It's completely not voluntary. They're not going to do experiments on me?"

"No. Why do you think they would?"

"The last time this happened - "

"When you found out your ex was gay."

"That's not why! I'm sure I would've done the same thing if her new lover was a guy."

"No you wouldn't. You're a man."

"I was shot before I could hurt her. When I woke up, I was in an underground lab, surrounded by soldiers."

"Aren't you from Sunnydale? Sounds more like Roswell to me. Angel didn't say anything about soldiers."

"They came after he left. What did Angel tell you about Sunnydale?"

"Hellmouth. Saving the world. Sixty foot snake."

"Buffy?"

"You mean the girl he dated?"

"The girl he . . . dated. Angel has a way with understatement, but that, that's like saying Romeo and Juliet saw each other at a few parties."

"Is this about the Curse? I know about the Curse."

"Interesting. And you don't mind?"

"That is none of your business!"

"You're right."

"We have slept together."

"Talk about learning control."

"But it's none of your business. I don't even know you! You don't have a right to quiz me about my sex life just because we - " Nina backs up, puts her right hand to her heart and takes a deep breath. "- oh God. Ohhh God. What have I done?" she slowly sinks to the floor.

"Angel was never the vengeful type back when I knew him. Is that still the case?" He realizes Nina's in somewhat of the same position he was in after Veruca showed up. Which puts Oz in Veruca's position. He slowly backs up to the middle of his cage. "I'm starting to feel okay with these bars." What a few minutes ago had protected the world from Oz now protects Oz from Angel.

Upstairs, Angel turns on the monitor. "They've changed back." He turns it off.

"It's only been," Wes glances at his watch, "barely more than two hours."

"So this was a brief, temporary episode," Fred concludes. "Like when Angel turned into that green thing back in Pylea." She looks worried. "I hope it can't recur like that green thing almost did." Gunn, Fred and Wes follow Angel. He turns around.

"I'm going alone." Spike runs up.

"Here you are. What's the story? Big beastie you don't want to risk the humans against? Count me in for the fight." Angel pushes Spike back, then turns around and continues on his way. "What's wrong with him, today?," Spike asks the others.

Oz and Nina hear footsteps. Then they see Angel. Oz tries to cover up his nakedness Angel averts his eyes and tosses Oz a bathrobe. He glances at Nina, who turns around, embarrassed. The sight of her naked body only reminds him of the sight of Oz naked, which makes him think of the two of them together, naked, without fur. He hands Nina her robe and purges that awful image from his mind. Everyone's silent for ten seconds. Angel paces back and forth. Then he walks over to Oz.

"Angel, I, uh, I value our friendship, and I would never do anything to hurt or, humiliate - "

"Why are you here?" Oz pauses for a few seconds.

"I got a bit rambunctious."

"I meant, why did you come here today?"

"Someone's after me."

"Who?"

"Werewolf hunter by the name of Ezra Collins. More of a werewolf trainer. He's got this drug, or potion, I'm not sure which. But after he shoots them up with it, they stay wolves. Then he trains them and sells the werewolves off to whoever wants a giant human pit bull."

"Is he in LA?," Nina asks, worried about her own safety.

"I lost him in Monterey. Greg, he wasn't so lucky. Could have just as easily been me."

"We'll look this guy up," Angel promises. "Evil bastard like that, he might even be a client."

"That makes me feel better. By the way Nina, that's what I sound like when I'm being sarcastic."

"I'll find him before he finds you, Oz. You're safe." Angel unlocks the cage.

"From Ezra, maybe." It takes Angel a few seconds to realize that Oz actually fears that he harbors some sort of jealous rage towards him. To Angel, that's utterly ridiculous.

"I don't blame you for what happened. Not even a bit." Angel looks sincere enough, so Oz leaves the cage. "There are some clothes at the top of the stairs. Take what you like. Then you can head back upstairs." He walks away. "Oz." He turns around to look at Angel. "I know it wasn't your fault."

"Has to be someone's," Oz replies with a shrug before heading upstairs. Angel unlocks Nina's cage. She slowly walks out, but resists making eye contact.

"Remember when you tried to eat me when I was a puppet?"

"This hurts even more? Is that what you want to tell me?"

"No!" He grabs her shoulders and makes her look at him. "Nina, listen to me. I didn't hold that against you for one second."

"Course not. You like girls who try to kill you," she quips. "It's something of a turn-on for you."

"No it's not."

"The next time we met, you asked me out. Before then, you didn't want to date. I try to kill you, you have a change of heart."

"I do NOT like women who try to kill me." Nina smirks. "Okay, but I don't like them BECAUSE they try to kill me. You've got the wrong vampire," he jokes, referring to Spike. "You can't be held responsible for what you do when you're a wolf. I'm not angry about what happened up there."

Nina gets a sour look on her face and pushes Angel away. "Well that's depressing. What's wrong, Angel?," she asks with a smile. "You like a girl, you're supposed to get jealous when you see her in the arms of another man. Even if he, isn't exactly a man at the time."

"I was devastated. Crushed. I felt humiliated. Is that what you needed to hear?"

"It's a start." He's glad she can be at least a little playful about this.

"But I got over it. I care about you too much to let something like this get between us." They kiss, then hug. Nina rests her head against his chest and smiles. "It's not like you want him more than me when you're human."

Oz puts on black jeans, a gray t-shirt and a black pair of Converse sneakers, then returns to the office, where Gunn, Wes and Fred are waiting. Along with Harmony, Spike and Lorne. Once again, Oz looks confused. "You want other clothes?," Fred asks.

"We can order you something. It'll be here in five minutes," Gunn adds.

"No. Odd how everything was in my size. Oddly, perfect. Like a lot of other things here. Except for him. What's he doing here?"

"I have a soul. I'm a champion. I help people."

"He saved my life a few months back," Fred offers.

"And I closed the Hellmouth," Spike proudly reports. "Saved the world."

"And I thought it was done by a big, huge bomb. Blow up the school. Blow up the town. It's only a matter of degree. Where are Buffy and Willow these days?"

"Buffy's in Rome. Willow's in Brazil with her girlfriend."

"Tara?"

"Kennedy. Tara's dead."

"Oh. That's too bad. Must have been real hard on Willow."

"You don't want to know how hard," Wes suggests.

"If you say so."

"Kennedy's a Slayer," Harmony reports. "It's a big thing. Everyone's into Slayers. There are like hundreds of them now. A big global Slayer infection."

"But Buffy's still alive."

"Faith, too," Wes responds.

"Buffy wus dead," Spike mentions. "For about four months."

"A lot can happen in four years," Oz offers in summary.

"Tell me about it," Harmony begins. "Spikey and me break up, I don't see him for two years, and when I finally do, I find out he's been busy sharing his bed with Buffy." Oz looks a little nauseous.

"Just so I know, did the rest of you understand A lot can happen in four years' to mean Let's drop the subject'?" Wes, Gunn, Fred and Lorne nod. Spike feels dissed. Oz catches sight of Lorne. "I don't think we've met."

"Lorne. Long-time friend and loyal member of Team Angel."

"Don't worry. He's harmless," Harmony tells Oz, offending Lorne, since harmless' can also mean helpless.' "He can read people's thoughts when they sing. Learn their problems. See their future." Oz winces.

"Guess you stay away from kareoke bars."

"Stay away? I used to own one!"

"I don't envy you." Lorne is actually glad to meet someone who sees his powers as a burden and a responsibility, not an amusing parlor trick. "What about when people play instruments? I play guitar, and it's scary to think there could be someone out in the crowd reading my thoughts."

"You're a professional musician!," Lorne enthuses.

"No, uh, not even close," Oz bashfully replies. "Sometimes we get paid, but I always think of it as pity money. People feeling sorry for us because we have no actual talent."

"Are you living in the area?," Lorne asks. "Because I've been thinking of getting back out on stage, hitting the supper clubs and cabarets, and I'm looking for a guitarist who's not put off by a green demon."

"My plans are kind of up-in-the-air right now."

"Would you mind going to the lab?," Fred kindly asks. Oz gets massively wigged.

"Not sure. Why?"

"I'd like to do some tests."

"On me? See, being the lab rat — not so much fun."

"Just wanna get your vital signs. Maybe take a small blood sample."

"It's not like she'll make you turn your head and cough," Spike jokes, until he, Gunn and Wesley all realize that doesn't sound so bad when Fred's the doc.

"Wouldn't you like to know why you became a werewolf when there wasn't even a full moon out?," Wesley asks.

"I got excited."

"In a manner of speaking, yes. But that's hardly an adequate explanation."

"I don't change during full moons."

"How?"

"I don't get excited," Oz replies somewhat uncooperatively. He has lingering doubts about Wesley.

"That's it!," Fred exclaims. "You repress all that energy, and sooner or later you're bound to explode."

"The three nights of the full moon act as a safety valve for animal energy," Wes adds.

"Not quite buying," Oz responds. "It's been four years since I last changed. How long was I the wolf?"

"Two hours," Wesley reports.

"If it's repression, and I've repressed' for four years, shouldn't I stay unrepressed' a little longer?"

"Has this happened before?," Fred asks. "Ah mean, since you went off the clock,' so to speak."

"I told you. It happened four years ago. By then, I'd already gone three full moon cycles without changing."

"This wus when I rescued you from the Initiative." Oz gives Spike a dubious look. "You thought it wus the Scoobies. But without me, Buffy never would've gotten in the door."

Oz looks at Wes, Fred and Gunn. "The last I was in Los Angeles, Spike was torturing Angel." Fred looks at Spike, disappointed.

"I had my reasons."

"The first time you went wolfy without warning, why?," Gunn asks. The Gilbert and Sullivan they put in his brain causes him to occasionally unintentionally alliterate.

"Met my girlfriend's girlfriend." Lorne, Gunn and Wes all take a deep breath and empathize with his pain.

"So it's all about sex," Harmony decides. "You wanted to jump Nina's bones, so you did."

"No I didn't. Okay, I did, but I didn't want to. When I was me."

"Have you met many female werewolves?," Wes asks.

"Not since I stopped changing during full moons," he responds truthfully but evasively.

"So this was the first chance for your desire, your - " Wes pauses.

"Sicko wolfy lust?," Harmony offers.

"I'm not attracted to her. I don't even think she's really my type."

"This still doesn't explain Nina's transformation," Fred notes to Wes.

"The sicko wolfy lust went both ways," Harmony explains.

"Maybe it was a simple defensive reaction," Gunn theorizes. "She doesn't change, Oz could rip her apart."

"I was here, and trust me, she wasn't defending herself," Harmony reports. "Those two were getting freaky, and it was very mutual."

"Maybe," Oz concedes. "But that's the wolf. Not the human. The human in her probably never wants to see me again." The elevator opens. Nina and Angel step out. Oz gets nervous.

"Oz. Oz?," Nina asks in a friendly voice. He looks at her. "How does lunch sound?"

"It's eight at night." She giggles at his dry sense of humor.

"Let's do lunch tomorrow. So we can talk about, you know, wolf stuff."

"Okay."

"Here's my number. Call around eleven? Then we'll decide where to meet."

"Sure." Angel gets what he wanted from his office and walks back out to Nina. "We're heading out. You told them about the guy they had to research, didn't you Oz?" The elevator opens. They get in. Oz is stunned by Nina's friendliness. Spike is delighted at the thought of Angel playing the clueless cuckold.

"Maybe the two of them have an understanding," he insinuates, though nobody's paying attention to him.

"What guy?," Fred asks. "Oz?" He stops thinking about Nina.

"Ezra Collins."

"Ez!," Lorne shouts. "About six feet tall, white hair, early forties?"

"You're not one of his clients?," Oz asks nervously.

"Ez has clients?"

"Customers, at least. For the werewolves he buys and sells."

"That's horrible!," Fred exclaims. "Lorne, why do you know such a horrible man?"

"We all know plenty of horrible men," Wes reminds her.

"Haven't seen the guy in two years. He used to hang around Caritas. Luckless hustler. Always concocting get-rich-quick schemes that fizzled before he had dollar one in his hands."

"Things have changed," Oz remarks. "This guy's got money, connections."

"Then he shouldn't be too hard for us to find," Gunn promises. He heads off with Wes and Fred. Spike tags along.

"You do research now?," Oz asks him.

"Wanna know what he looks like, where he hides out. That way, I can hunt him down and kill him." Spike starts walking again. Oz stands there for a moment.

"How exactly has getting a soul changed you?," he asks before catching up with Wes, Fred and Gunn. This leaves Harmony all alone.

"I'm heading out now. Unless you need me. Which, of course, you don't."

NEXT: Harmony tries to fulfill her desire to feel useful by joining Devlin and his gang of vampire-killing vampires. But they're more worried about the imminent mass Slayer assault.


	15. Harmony Tries SlayDating

Harmony tries to make friends with Devlin and the other vampires, joining them for one of their hunts. Then, Andrew and the Slayers arrive, ready to collect Debbie and bring her to Buffy.

Deb and Dev have just learned about the Slayer Army coming for her. She paces nervously in the living room. "Maybe we should run."

"What about school?"

"Just for a few days. They got girls all over the world. They're not gonna waste a lot of time waiting for me."

"What if they set up an office in LA? Or Phoenix? Or Vegas? Or any other city within a day's drive of here? Then they'll have operatives permanently within reach, who can grab you any time they want, without warning. This is our one chance to see them coming, and to teach them a lesson. I'll make sure they'll never hassle you again."

"Without any killing."

"That goes without saying. We can't give them something to avenge."

"But there's twelve. How do we handle twelve of them?"

"By teaching them the importance of home field advantage."

"What about Angel?"

"I'm not sure Buffy's comfortable with letting him hang around so many Slayers," Devlin jokes.

"He's their own home-field advantage. You don't think Angel's been spying on me?"

"The stalker habit can be hard to break. All those centuries of watching pretty young women from the shadows."

"Dev, I'm serious."

"So am I."

"He probably has people from his company keeping tabs on me?" The doorbell rings. Debbie walks over to the door.

"Which would teach them nothing that could help the enemy," Dev argues.

"New face," Debbie whispers. Dev takes a look through the peephole and smiles.

"Don't worry. Just a vampire." He opens the door. Deb goes for her stake, wondering how stupid this vampire must be. "Harmony!" Debbie returns with her stake, which worries Harmony.

"I didn't come to make any trouble," she nervously claims. "I know better than to mess with a Slayer."

"Old friend?," Debbie asks her boyfriend. Then she begins to worry. "Old girlfriend?" He laughs. So does Harmony.

"Actually, I used to date his sire. Which, if you think about it, almost makes me your boyfriend's step-mom."

"Harmony works for Angel. She's his secretary."

"Angel sent you," a scowling Debbie concludes. "How would he like it if we sent you back in a coffee can?" Harmony takes a couple steps back.

"I don't know what you think is going on, but Angel SO did not send me. He doesn't even know I'm here. If he did, I think he'd be mad at me. I just wanna help kill the bad guys."

"We don't kill people," Debbie replies.

"Vampires. Demons. You kill those bad guys. Look, I've been off the human stuff for almost a year. I'm reformed. I think I could fit in really well."

"Excuse us," Deb coldly says before slamming the door in Harmony's face. Dev quickly opens it a crack and peeks his head outside.

"We just need a moment." Debbie yanks him away.

"Why do I always choose to hang around the Slayer-whipped ones?," Harmony sighs. Devlin turns on the stereo so that The Replacements' "I Will Dare" drowns out their conversation.

"A little more blatant than I expected," Debbie observes.

"She's not a spy."

"Like hell she isn't! It's the perfect cover."

"What cover?"

"Exactly! She acts completely unlike a spy. Creates this whole ditzy blonde airhead persona. All to make us underestimate her."

"Darling, I think that's her actual personality."

"That just makes it easier to pull off. She's the C.E.O's secretary at a big company. The girl has to have talent. Plus, she dated Spike! Doesn't he only go for the best?" Devlin mulls over which mistaken assumption to attack first.

"Angel is not Jack Welch. He's not a real corporate mogul. He's merely playing one. Everyone I've talked to confirms that. They've also said there were a lot of secretaries more qualified than Harmony, but she got chosen because Angel knew her. He knows her limitations. If she betrays him, he'll see it from a mile away."

"In other words, she's expendable."

"No. It's tough to find a sycophant you're comfortable with. Believe me, I've tried."

"Then why is she here?"

"Because her boss doesn't respect her. He hired her precisely because he doesn't respect her. People need to feel that they belong to something bigger than themselves. That's probably why she got a day job in the first place. But that didn't do the trick. She can't belong if they don't respect her."

"And now she wants to join our club?," Deb asks with a laugh.

"She doesn't feed. The firm tests their vamps every morning. You fail, you die."

"That makes her think she's like you?"

"She paid the price, but hasn't gotten a reward. That must be very frustrating."

"Poor girl. Boo hoo. Like I care. We don't need her."

"True. But she could prove useful. It would be nice to have an inside source."

"You actually believe she'd sell out the guy who pays her rent?"

"More like she'll let stuff slip without thinking. That's what you do when you're with friends'."

Debbie smiles. "I love the way you think."

"I love the way you everything," he replies with the obliviousness to corniness of someone in love. They kiss for a bit.

"We probably shouldn't keep her waiting."

"Harmony?"

Debbie scoffs. "Cynthia! She's driving."

"Two rising tonight?"

"One in Escondido. One is San Marcos. What are you looking at?"

"A nest in Banning."

"That's like fifty miles away for both of us."

"Vampire sprawl. Live where it's safe, commute to where the bodies are."

"Whatever happened to the dumb ones who squatted in warehouses and killed in their own neighborhood?"

"You slayed most, drove away the rest. Only the smart ones are left."

"I thought you were the only smart one."

"No. Just the smartest." They kiss again and walk out onto the porch. Harmony's anxious to hear what their verdict is. "We're taking out a gang. You're welcome to come along."

"Killing! Goodie! I brought my own stake." She's shows it to prove that she's prepared.

"Thanks." Devlin yanks it out of her right hand and walks to the car. Deb takes shotgun. Harmony thinks Dev's just hazing the new girl, and gets in back. He drives off in his red '65 Mustang convertible.

"Nice car. Not QUITE as nice as the ones they have where I work. I could probably get you one. Or two. Or maybe even four. Angel gives them to Spike like party favors, so I'm sure he wouldn't miss them. Except if it was the Viper." She realizes they're not paying attention, glances over Debbie's shoulder and notices where Dev has his right hand, and that Deb's leaning her head back and starting to quietly moan. The two of them are pretty much pretending Harmony isn't there. Just like at work. Except for the sexual content. Three minutes later, Dev pulls into Cynthia's driveway. They smooch for about ten seconds before she hops up and out without bothering to open the door. Devlin looks back at Harmony.

"How bout you sit up front? It's a long trip. I'm sure you'll appreciate the leg room."

"We aren't the only ones?," she asks, suspecting the answer is no.

"Sid, Paul and Luiz are also coming. They can sit in back." This was what Harmony had hoped to hear. Dev was being nice to her. She steps out, then remembers what Deb and Dev were doing. Good thing Debbie was wearing pants. She gets up front, and they head over to a luxury apartment building to pick up the other vampires. Sidney sits in the middle, with Paul to her right and Luiz to her left.

"How do you guys afford a place like this?," Harmony asks.

"We don't," Luiz replies. They all laugh.

"Dev does," Paul adds.

"You'd be surprised how many people are willing to pay for someone with my skills," Devlin explains, without explaining anything. "Plus, I've made some investments over the years. The Dow was below a thousand when I started out."

"You mean you actually buy stuff?," Harmony asks with scorn. Seems like a wimpy way for a vampire to live.

"Only what I can't easily steal. It's hard to take a house, or a hotel room."

"No it's not. You just kill whoever lives there."

"Which brings the cops around in one, two days tops. That's okay when you're on the road, new town every day. But not when you're nesting."

"There are always crypts, caves, abandoned buildings. I happen to pay rent right now. But that's only because I have a job."

"Do you meet interesting people at Wolfram & Hart?," Sidney asks.

"The people are usually pretty boring. But some of the demons are interesting. Oh, and there was this cyborg one time, which looked just like Wesley's father, but Wes shot him to save Fred, and he didn't know it wasn't really his father until after he shot him."

"Who's Wesley?," Paul asks.

"He's this English guy who works with Angel. Knows a lot about magic and prophecies. Really smart. He used to be a Watcher, but then his Slayer went evil, and he got fired. I think that's what made him so dark and intense. He's in love with Fred."

"Big surprise there," Sidney comments.

"Because he's English?," Paul asks. "That's ignorant."

"Because he's a Watcher," Sidney responds. "That way, they don't have to worry about the Watchers hitting on the Slayers."

"I've met three Watchers," Harmony reports. "And two of them are definitely straight." She's filed Andrew under "ambiguous."

"Fred's a women," Devlin tells his friends. "A very beautiful woman. From what I've seen, that's true of all the women who work with Angel." He smiles flirtatiously at Harmony, who appreciates the compliment. Spike was right about Devlin trying hard to play the charmer.

"What's her job?," Luiz wonders.

"Fred's a scientist," Harmony answers

"So they're both brains," Paul concludes.

"Sounds like an obvious match," Sidney assumes.

"Not to them. Or, not to Fred. Wes always wanted her. But she just saw him as a friend for, like, forever. Until around the time Angel turned into a puppet."

There was something Devlin didn't know. "Someone temporarily controlled his body?"

"No. He was a puppet. About three feet tall. Made of felt. Really adorable. See, there was this tv show . . . "

Harmony goes on to tell them about when Spike was a ghost, when that other vampire tried to frame Harmony and she dusted her on the conference table, when she took Buffy's sister hostage, when she joined that cult and tried to double-cross Angel's friends. She revels at being the center of attention. It's sort of feels like high school again. Sidney, Paul and Luiz are very impressed by the fact that Harmony spent all that time around Buffy, yet Buffy was never able to kill her. Ditto for trying to get Angel's friends killed, and then getting hired by them. Vampires who try to hurt Buffy and Angel rarely live to tell about it. An hour later, as Devlin pulls into town, he briefly explains the current situation.

"Vampires come to Banning for the same reasons that humans do. Lots of space. Plenty of peace and quiet. Yet conveniently-located. Right off the highway. A straight-shot down Interstate Ten into Los Angeles. But I don't think they take it that far, since they would then run the risk of getting caught in Angel's and Spike's cross-hairs. Evidence indicates that they've been feeding around Pasadena and Burbank."

"Can the Joe Friday act," Paul jokes.

"This stuff's important. It's how I located them. So Banning's got the highway. It also has the Southern Pacific, in case you want to hop a freight train. And, to top it all off, an airport."

"Vampires don't fly," Harmony points out. Sid, Paul and Luiz all nod in agreement.

"The hangars," Dev counters. "Spacious. Complete protection from sunlight. And people are very rarely in them."

"How did you find these guys?," Harmony asks. "Did someone tip you off?"

"They did. One of them messed up and killed a local."

"That doesn't mean they live here. They could live in some other town a couple miles away. When I lived in Sunnydale, I didn't always feed there. We are pretty damn mobile." About a mile past the center of town, they enter the airport, which is closed for the night.

"There's always a chance you're right," Devlin concedes. "But I deal in probabilities. And I think this is the most probable place they'd live."

"Which building?," Sidney asks.

"Depends how many vamps," Luiz guesses.

Harmony glances back and sees Sidney's right leg intertwined with Luiz's left leg, her right hand on his right thigh, Paul's right hand on her left thigh, with Paul's head resting on her left shoulder, and her left hand stroking his left cheek. Harmony knows they all have human girlfriends and boyfriends. She's seen them with the humans, and they seemed pretty couple-y. However, the three of them do appear to live together. Either they're all just really friendly, or there's some kinky stuff going on. Harmony's first thought is "Gross!" But her second thought is "Can I get in on this?"

"So how does it work, exactly? You know, with the people you date living with their parents?" The three vampires snicker as Devlin sticks to business looks around for signs of undead life.

"That depends on whether or not the parents are sound sleepers," Sidney responds with a smirk.

"Plus, we can always meet up at Debbie's," Luiz adds.

"Or Theo's," Paul points out. His parents are loaded, and they're often away on business.

"Even when they're not, the place is so huge he's got practically his own wing," Sidney explains. "Half the time, they don't even know when Cynthia's over."

"And then there's our own pad," Luiz mentions.

"Two thousand square feet, three bedrooms, two bathrooms," Devlin notes with pride, since he pays the rent. "What about that one?," he asks regarding a nearby warehouse.

"Maybe," Sidney replies. She points to their left. "What about that!?"

"A train station?," Dev asks dubiously.

"Probably abandoned. Still in great shape. Very cozy," she comments with a coquettish smile. Harmony's starting to wish she could be Sid. They're both young, pretty and blonde. Harmony certainly thinks she's prettier than Sidney. And the girl definitely seems to be enjoying life.

"I'm sure you and Diego would be very happy there," he kids, referring to her human boyfriend.

"Do they know any other cute, single guys?," Harmony asks Sidney.

"You thinking of moving?"

"To the O.C? Please! No offense. I'm just talking about dating. I've had bad luck with vampires. Actually, I've had bad luck with all men since I became a vampire. Things seemed to go way better for me in high school."

"When were you bit?," Sid asks.

"Graduation day. I was running away from the giant snake our town's mayor had turned into when a vampire got me from behind." The vamps aren't buying it. "I'm serious!"

"Cut her some slack," Devlin suggests. "She's from the Hellmouth." He stops the car near the station. "Okay Sid. Let's see if you're right." Everyone gets out.

"Where are your weapons?," Harmony asks.

"You're here to watch," Devlin informs her, causing disappointment. "Watch, and learn."

"I know how to kill a vampire."

"Groups tactics," he responds. "That's what you're learning." Once again, Harmony feels left out. Devlin hears a television on inside. "Good call, Sid." She smiles. Dev takes the front, Sid the back, Luiz the right, and Paul the left, surrounding the building. Devlin kicks open the front door. "Pest control." A male vampire stands up. Dev knocks him down with a right hook. "We had reports of an infestation." A female vampire runs away and leaps through a side window, knocking Paul down. Her man quickly follows. By the time Paul gets up, the couple's escaped the cordon. Paul and Sidney give chase, followed by Devlin and Luiz.

"They're running to another building!," Harmony shouts out. "I think it's a trap!!" She shrugs and runs along after them. The two vampires bang on the door of a hangar and then turn around. Their backs to the wall, they put up their hands.

"End of the line," the guy says. The door opens. Four more male vampires step out. Evidently the ones in the train station were the leader and his girlfriend.

"Am I supposed to be scared?," Devlin asks.

"You're supposed to get your ass kicked." The leader steps forward. He's got four inches and forty pounds on Devlin. Dev dodges a right cross by moving his head to the left, and a left cross by moving his head to the right. He lands three quick left jabs, a right cross, a left hook and a right uppercut, putting the larger vampire on his back. Spike taught him long ago how to handle the big bruisers.

"Let me know how that kicking my ass thing goes," Devlin taunts before heading to his right, where Luiz is being double-teamed. He stakes one vamp in the back. When the other one turns around, Dev knocks him down with a left roundhouse kick. Luiz can easily take things from there. To Luiz's right, the leader's girlfriend tangles with Sidney, taking her to the ground and getting on top. Dev stakes her in the back. Then he helps Sidney up and points to their far left, where Paul is double-teamed. Sid sprints over, leaps through the air and kicks one of the men in the head with a flying right kick.

"Have you been avoiding me, maggot?," the leader asks Devlin. He throws a right hook that Dev ducks under before landing a right foot to the guy's chin. When the vampire tries a right hook kick, Devlin blocks it, punches the leader in his stomach with a right uppercut, lands a left jab-left hook combination to his face, and puts him on his back yet again with a big right uppercut to the chin. Devlin then reaches into his pants, grabs a pistol with his right hand, raises it up and fires into the air. Everyone stops fighting. Luiz, Sidney, and Paul back away from their opponents. They know what's next. Harmony certainly doesn't.

"I thought that would get your attention." Devlin's opponent gets up and laughs.

"Whadya think you're gonna do with that?" The leader's lackeys also laugh.

"I can't kill you with it. But there are fates worse than death." Devlin points and fires, putting a bullet into his forehead and out the other side. The vampire falls down. Devlin aims and fires again, putting another bullet through the vampire's cranium. He struggles to get to his feet, but evidently his motor skills have been somewhat compromised. He tries to speak, but all his friends hear are slurred consonants. "Fates such as living out the rest of your days as a vampire with permanent brain damage." He points his gun in the direction of the other three vampires. He reaches down, picks up some of the gooey yellow stuff on the ground with his left index finger and holds it up for them to see. "You get you brains blown out, it's hard to put them back in." He smiles wickedly, then wipes the finger on the leader's nose, just to show how out of it the guy now is. Devlin walks towards the three vampires, his gun pointed in their direction. "You leave Southern California tonight. You don't come back. You tell all your friends that THIS is what will happen to THEM if they come here," he adds, gesturing towards their fallen leader. "It's a big country. It's a big world. Find yourselves another part of it." He waits for five seconds. "Move along, now." They're still looking at their leader, shocked and appalled. Devlin points and fires, taking off a vampire's left ear. "I said MOVE ALONG!" He fires again. The bullet goes a foot above another vampire's head. He runs off. So does the other uninjured vampire. The injured one reaches down, picks up the severed ear and flees as well.

Sidney, Luiz and Paul slowly clap as they walk over to Devlin. "Nice shooting," Luiz offers.

"You took that ear off from thirty feet away!," Paul enthuses.

"Hitting the ear was easy," Devlin brags. "The trick is to not hit anything else." Harmony makes her way over. She had been impressed by how quickly Devlin completely took over that fight. What he did to that poor vampire absolutely blew her away. But it also frightened her. She had always taken comfort in the idea that bullets could never harm her. Devlin's little trick made her feel, well, mortal. "Was the show worth the long drive out here?," he asks Harmony.

"Sure. Oh yeah. Very, umm, enlightening."

"The sunrise will put him out of his misery," Devlin assures Harmony regarding the vampire with the ventilated skull.

"Would you like to come to a party on Friday night?," Sidney asks.

"A fun human party, or a demon party where we kill everyone?," she asks nervously.

"High school kids. Mostly juniors and seniors. Oh, and there's always something going on Saturday at the colleges." Harmony, who's still thinking about Devlin's gunplay, doesn't look pleased, despite Sidney's offer. "You said you wanted to meet human guys."

"Oh. Of course! Sounds great. I'll give you my number."

When he gets back home, Devlin finds Debbie on a swing at the neighborhood playground. She swings back, fifteen feet in the air, and feels someone grab her from out of nowhere. The two of them fall to the ground. She elbows him in the ribs. "Dumbass. You know better than to sneak up on a Slayer. I could have killed you."

"I know. The risk makes it fun."

"I could use a little less risk these days," Debbie confesses, referring to the imminent arrival of the Slayer Army. Dev puts his left arm over her shoulders. Deb wraps her right arm around his waist. They walk home.

"Ours went according to plan. How bout yours?"

"Both dead. But it was kinda hairy. There were two. Five miles apart. So I'm thinking What if the one in San Marcos rises when I'm at the grave in Escondido?' He gets away."

"This is why I've never been a fan of patrolling in graveyards. It's inefficient. Unless, of course, you live on a Hellmouth, and can get by on sheer volume."

"And you know how much my friends have wanted to fight one on their own. Cynthia and Theo especially."

"Let me guess: you took one grave, the five of them took the other."

"They were totally stoked after."

"Can you blame 'em?"

"No." She laughs. "They each had a different story that made them look like the hero. I figured that the parts they all mentioned really happened. And when I put it together, it's kinda slap stick."

"The vampire's disoriented. Still trying to get his bearings. Hell, he probably hadn't even figured out what he was. I took me a while."

"I think Diego attacked it, but it pushed him away and went for Danielle, who probably screamed, and Melanie pulled on its hair. Then it started flailing wildly at everyone, so they pulled out their crosses."

"Which is great for stopping it from killing you, though it does nothing to help you kill it."

"Not to mention the religious aspect. Theo said he needs to talk to a rabbi who knows about vampires."

"If he wants, I can go to temple with him one night, and we could put on a little demonstration for his rabbi. But Theo knows Stars of David also do the job."

"Yeah, but it's harder to carry a large one of those and hold it out."

"Crosses and holy water have an undeniable utility."

"Anyway, the vampire knocked Diego and Theo down. They each had a small bruise, so it makes sense. Then it grabs Cynthia. Theo tries to rescue her by staking it in the back. He misses. But he climbs on its back, it falls forward on top of Cynthia, and when they all go down, it falls into her stake."

"And Theo ends up on top. A very romantic three-way." She punches him in the stomach with her left fist. "Do they want to make a habit of this?"

"Sadly, yes."

"They were scared."

"I think that's part of the high."

"And they're not yet afraid of losing. They don't see that as a possibility. Which is clearly your fault." She gives him a dirty look. "You make it look so easy."

"It's not vampires they're afraid of right now."

Thursday night, around nine o'clock. Devlin sits at the computer in Debbie's bedroom, using the web to check on the status of an incoming flight. She's on her feet, and very jumpy. "Are you sure she's at the right gate?," Deb asks.

"She was at the right gate when you talked to her thirty minutes ago. Relax. Says here the flight's at least forty five minutes late. They haven't missed anything."

"Slayers are fast. They could give Cynthia the slip."

"They don't know they're being followed." Deb looks down at her phone.

"Got a text message. I think this means she's made contact."

"I'm sure they weren't very hard to spot."

"Now for the hard part."

"The waiting."

"When do I tell the others to move out?," Debbie asks.

"When the enemy's a lot closer."

"What if Theo loses them?"

"Not gonna happen, Devlin guarantees. "Theo's a maniac on the road. Even when he doesn't have motivation."

Andrew and the twelve Slayers walk quickly but calmly from the gate to the exit. They traveled light: backpacks for some of the girls, a briefcase for Andrew, which meant they didn't have to wait for any luggage. They've done this so often it's become routine. They're a well-oiled Slayer-collecting machine. Cynthia follows about forty feet back. The girls climb into a black van sixty feet behind where Theo's parked. Andrew gets in the front passenger seat five seconds before Cynthia. Theo pulls out, cutting two taxis off to stay near the van. He makes sure to follow with a car or two in between, so as not to attract suspicion.

"Are they paternalists, or monopolists?," Theo asks Cynthia as he follows the Slayers out of the airport and onto a southbound highway.

"Who?"

"The ones we're following."

"They're kidnappers."

"Including the kidnapees?," he asks with smartass irony about the dozen Slayers Cynthia saw arrive.

"They've been brainwashed. It's like a cult."

"Which means this Buffy must have ten Rolls-Royces and twenty concubines."

"Female?"

"That would create jealousy amongst the girls she doesn't sleep with," he responds facetiously. "I'm thinking male concubines. I'm also thinking this sounds completely ridiculous, which I why I disagree with you. I think they mean well."

"Then why are you tailing them?," she asks, very peeved by her boyfriend's apparently lack of loyalty to her best friend,

"Well-meaning people can be dangerous. Most girls aren't as strong as Debbie, and don't have friends like you. So they need the whole group thing to keep from going nuts."

"I don't think explaining that to them will make any difference."

"I know. That's why I'm here."

NEXT: Deb and Dev use very novel tactics to take on Andrew and his dozen Slayers. Suffice it to say, Buffy never prepared them for this.


	16. Devlin brings disaster to Buffy

Andrew meets Debbie, and the Slayers meet Devlin. Let's just say their training did not prepare them for this. By the time the battle's over, Deb and Dev make them long for simpler times when all they had to worry about was Caleb.

A half-hour after leaving the airport, Cynthia calls a very nervous Debbie, who picks up before the first ring is even half-finished. "How close are they?"

"They've stopped at an apartment in Lakewood. Looks like they're turning in for the night."

"Are you sure?"

"We've been watching them from across the street for ten minutes. Some lights went on. Then they went off."

Debbie looks at Devlin. "Cynthia says they stopped." She hands it to him.

"Lakewood." He looks at the map. "That's about twenty five miles from here. I think you're right, Cynthia. Bug 'em and head on home. You and Theo did good work." Devlin hangs up.

"They could just be stopping for weapons," Deb worries.

"Fourteen hour flight. Factor in the nine hour time difference. To them, it's already tomorrow morning."

"Exactly. They sleep on the plane. When they land, they're ready to roll."

"This way they have more flexibility. The local handler can spy on you and lead the Slayers right in."

"That's bad." Devlin shrugs.

"Ordinarily, yes. But it gives them confidence. And the more confident they are, the better my plan will work. We've taken away the element of surprise." Devlin laughs. "There's nothing funnier than someone too busy setting up an ambush to realize they're walking right into one."

"Is this where we're supposed to put it?," Theo asks Cynthia.

"Not on the treads. On the inside."

"How the hell are we supposed to that?," he asks, taking her answer too literally.

"THIS inside," she says. "The side without the hub cap," she adds mockingly. The two of them crouch behind the van. In their right hands are tiny electrical devices. In their left hands are bottles of industrial-strength adhesive. They put a drop on the flat, plastic back end of the device, and attach it to the side of the rear tires that faces inward, where they won't get struck or run over. Or even noticed. Then they rush back across the street, start up the car and drive away, taking deep breaths of relief because they didn't get caught.

Back at Debbie's home, Devlin proudly holds up two small receivers, each one about the size of a miniature tape recorder. A red light on top of each of them has turned on. "We are in business."

"I'm not cut out for this spy crap," Theo confesses as he wipes the sweat off his brow.

"What happened? Last night you were Mister Danger, even after we almost got killed."

"Different sort of danger. Vampires don't call the cops on you for trespassing and write down your license plate number."

"A police record could keep you out of Yale."

"Yes."

"So could being dead! Or getting turned into a vampire."

"I'm not sure if they have a policy on that," he jokes.

"You did great," she assures him, putting her left hand on his right thigh. "You kept your cool." Theo stops at a red light, takes her left hand in his right hand, and leans in Cynthia's direction.

"Couldn't have done it without you." She pushes Theo away and laughs when he tries to kiss her.

"Deb warned warned me that this risky stuff gets guys all hot and bothered." The light turns green. Theo pouts and drives on. "You don't need a near-death experience to make me want to kiss you. To most people, that would be a good thing."

Debbie gets out of bed at six-thirty and wakes Devlin up. "Rise and shine."

"I'll rise, but I refuse to shine," he grumbles.

"Get up, Dev. This could be our last morning together."

"I'm still recovering from what could have been our last night together," he says with a big smile. She jabs a pencil into his sternum. He loses the smile. "Ow! A little too kinky for my tastes at this hour." She glares at him. He stands up. "Okay. I'm at your service, love. What do you want?"

"Get dressed." He slouches.

"Apparently we aren't of one opinion regarding last night." She puts her hands on his chest and drives his back into the closet door.

"It was spectacular. If you want it to ever happen again, get dressed and help me stay free." Debbie views Buffy the way Buffy viewed Quentin Travers and the old Council. If Quentin established a policy of bringing all Slayers to London for training, you can imagine how Buffy (and her friends, and Angel, and possibly Giles as well) would have reacted. She heads into the bathroom and turns on the shower.

"You know that I'll die before I let them take you." She opens the door.

"You're no good to me dead." Devlin shakes his head, sits down at Debbie's desk and finishes last night's homework for her.

"I hate it when she's all business."

Forty minutes later, Debbie's ready to walk to school. "Are you sure it's safe?," she asks.

"It's the safest place you can be. As long as you're in public, in a large crowd, they won't touch you."

"Why not? They're my age. They can blend."

"Video cameras in the halls. They fight their way out, they're on the six o'clock news. Media would eat this right up."

"The mall's got security cameras. How bout I go there after school?"

"Bring your friends. They're your last line of defense."

"They couldn't stand up to a single Slayer. Let alone a dozen."

"Witnesses, love. People who can scream for help. Our enemies are by nature covert. You belong here. They don't. THAT is their weakness."

"Is this like that history essay on soft power you helped me with?"

"Hadn't thought of it like that," Devlin responds with a smile. "Good call, Deb." He decides to go with it. "Buffy is a lot like George W. Bush. She has the most power, she's absolutely certain of her moral superiority, she thinks she's been called on to rid the world of evil, so she believes she can do whatever she wants, and anybody who disagrees with her is aiding the forces of evil." This analogy would certainly cause Spike and Angel to heave, at the very least, before calling Devlin a mentally-unbalanced idiot. Ironically, Angel is quite familiar with her new-found aversion to multilateralism.

Debbie picks up two of the four receivers. "One more time."

"The one with the blue tape on back is a motion detector. When their car moves, it starts beeping like an alarm on a watch. Plus the light beeps. The car stops moving, the light stops beeping. The one with the red tape on back is a proximity detector. If the car's within a quarter-mile of you, it will blare as loud as it can."

"In other words, get the Hell outta Dodge."

"We'll already be on alert from the motion detector."

"You won't be with me if they come during the day."

"But I'll know. I have my own set." He holds up the other two receivers.

"Get home. Get inside."

"That's the day plan. They can't besiege us without attracting attention."

"Then why don't I stay home?"

"Because you'll have to leave sometime. Best to do it when the enemy's not around."

"I have to leave? Debbie leaps up and straddles her legs around his waist. Are you sure?"

"At some point, you'll run out of food," he responds with a smirk.

"So would you. And then I'd start to look a little too tasty," she jokes before putting her feet back on the ground and walking towards the door.

"I'd stake myself before I ever hurt you."

"No you wouldn't. Cause I'd stake you first." After what passes for romantic banter in this relationship, Deb gives Dev a long kiss goodbye and heads off for school. He checks the monitors, sits on the couch, turns on the news, puts his laptop on the coffee table and goes to work gathering the kind of news you can't find on television.

Thirteen hours later, and still no word. Dev and his three vampires join Deb and her five human friends at Debbie's house, though they segregate not by life form but by romantic attachment, the four "mixed" couples, plus Theo and Cynthia. Theo being half-black, they could be called mixed as well, if all their friends weren't dating undead people, which puts mere racial differences in an entirely new perspective. It goes without saying that all their parents are unaware of this fact. Donielle's mother and father have qualms about her dating an older guy (Luiz was sired at twenty, though Donielle, who's seventeen, claims he's just shy of nineteen). Melanie's parents don't know about Paul. Diego's mom doesn't quite understand why her boy is spending time with an Anglo college girl. Privately, the kids find these concerns to be hilariously beside-the-point, like the owner of a china shop complaining that the bulls who destroyed his merchandise weren't properly branded. Or like Willow's mom getting nervous because Oz was a guitar player.

"I don't get it," Debbie declares, shaking her head. "Maybe the gear's busted." Cynthia and Theo worry they didn't install the bugs correctly.

"What's their hurry?," Devlin counters. "The later they come, the less they have to worry about crowds. The mall closes soon. Then there's nowhere to hide but our houses."

"We could just go to another town," Melanie points out.

"Or another state," Donielle adds. The other humans nod. Like Debbie, they favor running.

"Sooner or later we'd have to return," Paul tells his girlfriend Melanie.

"Plus, tomorrow's a school day," Diego mentions, which his friends find utterly prosaic. He explains. "We skip, we get suspended. And grounded. Then we're sitting ducks."

"Isolated sitting ducks, who can't help Debbie," Devlin comments. "Okay, I'll make a deal. We're don't hear anything by nine, we move out regardless. Just in case." They go back to silently waiting. Paul heads into the kitchen and returns with a bottle of rum and a shot glass.

"Anybody thirsty?" Dev glares at him. Paul downs the shot. "Nerves."

"Good thinking," Diego responds, pouring and drinking a shot himself. They are just a handful of kids and a couple no-name vampires taking on an enemy of almost unimaginable power who, the last time they were in California, routed the might of Angel and resources of Wolfram & Hart without even throwing a punch. At ten minutes to nine, the motion detectors start beeping. Everyone moves out. The humans in Theo's car head for the closest graveyard. The vampires disappear. Not even Debbie knows precisely where they are. For their own good, it's best if the humans remain ignorant of the vampires' activities. Debbie carries a stake in her right hand. Donielle, Melanie and Diego carry crosses. Theo and Cynthia have switchblades in their pockets.

"What are we supposed to be doing?," Donielle asks.

"Hunting vampires," Deb responds.

"I know what we're supposed to pretend we're doing. But what are we actually doing?"

"You're my human shields."

"This plan just keeps getting better and better," Melanie grouses. Devlin has kept certain elements secret, such as how they will fight off the Slayers if it comes to that. The parts he's told them make it sound pretty lame. Even Debbie only knows half the battle plan. But she trusts Devlin completely.

"They won't be stupid enough to attack civilians," the Slayer argues. "If they try, we have their plate number. We know where they're staying. They'll be in a world of trouble."

"And if they attack YOU?," Diego asks.

"You're my witnesses. The law's on our side."

"Not all of us," Donielle adds, referring to the vampires.

"They're above it," Diego comments with more satisfaction than apprehension. The kids are still embarrassingly naive about what their vampire pals are capable of. The receiver Theo is holding starts to wail.

"They're here," Debbie announces.

"Which way?," Cynthia asks.

"From the highway," Debbie responds as she points westward to the front gate. Cynthia and Theo sprint in that direction. "No! Take that one!," Debbie commands, pointing to a side gate to the north. "You have to sneak up BEHIND them." They change direction.

"Places everybody," Donielle sarcastically suggests, trying to use humor to hold down the butterflies in her stomach. Even Debbie's nerves are jangled. This is the moment they've been fearing. Laguna Hills's version of the Big Bad. If you're Buffy, the irony would be sickening. If you're Devlin, it's delicious.

The van stops a block from the cemetery. The Slayers slowly file out. "We got this all worked out," Andrew whispers to Tabitha as the other Slayers check around for vampire ambushes. "I'm the good cop, you're the bad cop."

"No Andrew. You're good cop number one. I'm good cop number two. Everyone else is the bad cop. Things go well, they take care of the vamps while we talk to Debbie."

"And if things don't go well - "

"We don't hurt her. She's one of us."

"This is a Rogue Slayer we are dealing with, Tabitha."

"We don't assume that. We make her prove it."

"Then, if need be, take her down," Andrew maintains.

"LAST resort."

"It's a thin blue line we walk, Tabitha," Andrew intones as they slowly step towards the cemetery gates.

"And . . . . . action," Diego whispers when Andrew and Tabitha come into view. The four of them turn around, Scooby accouterments in hand. Debbie was expecting the Watcher to be older. And more magisterial. Alan Rickman, perhaps. Andrew is a surprise. And surprises aren't good.

The Slayers had already drove past Debbie's house. They then tried two cemeteries to the south, followed by this one to the north, where a quick drive around the bloc allowed them to spot a car parked on the east side of the graveyard. Arthur, their driver and scout, parks on the west side, so as to better avoid getting noticed. Also, it means Debbie's human and vampire pals have to choose between attacking the Slayers' ride and making their escape. They believe, Like Wesley and Angel initially did, that they are dealing with juvenile delinquents and two-bit punk vampires.

Luckily for the two of them, Debbie sent Cynthia and Theo to the correct side. They sneak up behind the van, its engine still running, which conceals the sounds of their approach. The two of them sit down and lean against the back of the van, catching their breath and hiding in the driver's blind spot.

Andrew stops ten feet in front of Debbie. He looks at her and at her friends, who stand behind and to the left and right of her. "It would appear that you understand what you are," he begins.

"Wish I could say the same for you," she disparagingly responds.

"I'm Tabitha. I'm a - "

"Slayer. Well, either that or this guy's girlfriend." Tabitha smirks at Debbie's dig at Andrew. Since fifteen twenty feet behind him, so he can't see her reaction. "I'm Deb. Good to meet you." Tabitha steps forward. Debbie puts out her right palm. "That's close enough." She's more comfortable with the Slayer keeping at least twenty feet in front of her.

"There's a guy. Blonde hair. Early twenties. He's threatening my friend Debbie. He's armed," Theo says into his cell phone. "That's right. The Holy Sepulchre Cemetery. He chased Debbie in there. There's about ten women with him. I don't know why. But I think they're also armed. I ran away. He said he just wanted her. They came out of a van. I saw the plate. Let me think. It was, it was . . . " He glances two feet to his left. "C,8,J . . . 5, V, 2, 4. That's right. A black van. It was the weirdest, scariest thing. Almost surreal. But he's packing heat. So please hurry." Theo hangs up. "Now what?," he asks Cynthia.

"We wait. And hope Deb can stall them long enough."

"That, and hope whoever's driving this thing doesn't back up."

"You did a real good job of pretending to be scared."

"Pretending?" She takes his left hand in her right hand, kisses it and giggles under her breath at his self-deprecation.

"We are here on behalf of Buffy Summers," Andrew reports. "She wants to train you, as she has trained many others."

"Case you didn't notice, kinda taken care of."

"Who was the strongest vampire you have slayed?"

"I'm supposed to get their names before I dust them?" Her friends laugh.

"It will only get worse. Word of your success will spread, drawing in vampires who were strong enough to kill other Slayers." Debbie bites her lip to keep from laughing, since Andrew's describing Devlin. "As well as demons, with all sorts of special abilities."

"You mean the monsters you behead, and their corpses don't disappear? I've come across a few."

"Buffy was once like you. Cocky, talented, green. She didn't rest on her laurels. She trained. She learned. And that's why she's still alive, more than eight years after being called." That, and getting brought back from the dead on two occasions. It's a classic case of the facts getting in the way of the truth.

"Funny name. Is she the one from Sunnydale?," Deb asks, feigning ignorance.

"You have heard of her."

"I know she lived on the Hellmouth. And I know that I don't."

"Next month, next week, tomorrow night, a vampire who is stronger, older and more experienced than any you have ever faced could come here. One mistake, one misstep, and you are dead. Are you sure you want to face that danger on your own?"

"Does it look like I'm on my own?" Her friends laugh. Perhaps, if Rupert himself was there, he could appreciate the irony, recognize the parallels, and perhaps gain Debbie's trust. Alas, when you're running a worldwide operation, you have to delegate.

"You don't have to be afraid," Tabitha interjects. "Nobody wants to force you to do anything. But this job is so much easier when you have another Slayer watching your back. It takes away a good ninety percent of the risk."

"No closer," Debbie warns as Tabitha once again tries to approach her. "One more step, and I go to work on your Watcher." Tabitha actually has to think for a moment before stopping. Deb appears to be making the mistaken assumption that Tabitha cares deeply about Andrew.

"I just want to talk," Tabitha pleads, trying her best to befriend the new girl.

"I can hear you fine from where you are."

"How did you find out about vampires, Deborah?," Andrew asks.

"It's Debbie. One of them attacked me. Real strong. Funny face. Fangs. Disappeared when I pushed him into a tree. I got roughed up pretty bad, but I lived, thank the Lord, and then I sat down and started figuring stuff out."

"Was it a vampire who taught you the moniker Slayer?" He's beating around the bush regarding her harboring of vampires.

"A few of them called me that. Wouldn't call it teaching."

"You're a self-taught Slayer."

"What are you getting at?," Deb asks suspiciously.

"Hey man. Can't you just leave us alone?," Diego suggests.

"Or, maybe you could help," Debbie improvises. "See that crypt over there? We think a couple have been nesting inside. I broke in this afternoon, and found two mattresses. Plus some blood on the floor. Maybe they've moved on, or maybe they were just hiding in the sewers when I checked the lair out. It has direct sewer access. I'd like to see if they've returned. Wouldn't mind a little backup. You mind?"

Andrew suspects a trap. He believes that once Tabitha and he are inside, she'll hit them over the head and possibly try to lock them in. He's too smart for that. "I think you and your friends can handle two vampyres." Diego chuckles at Andrew's pronunciation. "Tabitha and I can watch. And evaluate."

"See if I rate a passing grade," Debbie quips. "Sunnydale's gone. Where did you come from?" Tabitha is starting to get nervous. She wants to bring in the other girls, but worries about alarming Debbie. Besides, they're busy protecting Andrew and her from a vampire ambush, which is vital, because, while Tabitha could probably take four punk vampires, Andrew would almost certainly get killed in the process.

"Rome."

"Texas?," Deb jokes. "Wait. The one in Italy? Get outta here!"

"That's one helluva recruiting trip," Diego comments.

"We care a great deal about your friend," Andrew tells Diego. "We want to help her, as we have helped other Slayers."

"How bout we go somewhere and talk," Tabitha suggests. "Get some coffee, maybe?"

"Yeah, I'd feel more comfortable with you if we were someplace public," Deb tells Tabitha, communicating her fear and suspicion without sounding threatening. Deb knows it's important to appear helpless, lest the unwelcome visitors slip out of the trap.

"I know what you're thinking," Tabitha relates. "I've been there myself." This was a half-truth, since she fled for her life to Sunnydale more than a year ago, and hence was not recruited in the way Debbie is. "You're scared. You don't know who to trust. Slayers don't hurt each other. We take care of our own."

"Like a sorority," Melanie jokes.

"And you don't even have to rush," Donielle adds. The longer the stalemate lasts, the bolder Debbie's friends become.

"We don't want to take you friend away," Andrew assures them. "Debbie trains with us for a few months, and she'll come back her stronger than ever. Better able to protect herself. Better able to protect you."

"Did Buffy study abroad?," Debbie asks before laughing at her euphemism. Tabitha and Andrew think the kids' cockiness is rooted in ignorance. They feel as if they are in control, and in absolutely no danger.

"Things were very different when there was only one Slayer," Andrew explains.

"How many are there? When did things change?" Andrew's flattered by her curiosity. He thinks he's making progress, and doesn't realize she's stalling.

"As long as there have been vampyres, there have been Slayers." Four police cars slam on the brakes when they reach the west gate of the cemetery. Their sirens had been off so as not to give warning. Tabitha turns around and sees them. Her stomach feels like it just dropped to her ankles. They've cut her off from the van, and from the other Slayers, who scattered in fear. She runs south as four cops enter, eluding them, but leaving Andrew to fend for himself.

"Police!! Freeze! Hands up!" Debbie and friends chuck their stake and crosses behind them and quickly obey.

"Thank God you came," she says, immediately becoming frightened. "He was going to hurt me." Andrew notices Tabitha is gone, and the cops are pointing their guns in his direction. Not to worry. He's not doing anything illegal. Andrew slowly puts his hands up and calmly smiles.

"Officers. I believe what we have here is a false alarm. Or possibly a misunderstanding." He's the adult in this scene. He's travelled the world. Surely he can talk his way past a few suburban Keystone Cops.

"He said he was going to take me out of the country and make me one of them," Deb quickly relates. "And it didn't matter if I didn't wanna. Cause Dana didn't wanna, and they took her from LA last month. I think he's a pimp. Or in porno. There was a girl with him. Her name's Tabitha. I think she made a break for it when you guys came." One of the officers frisks Andrew, and pulls out his shiny silver tranquilizer gun.

"It's not what it looks like." Another officer cuffs Andrew, while the one conducting the search takes his taser.

"You're under arrest for illegal weapons possession."

"What! Officer. Officers. This a big misunderstanding."

"Tasers are illegal for civilians to carry in this state. Sorry you misunderstood that." They drag him away while two other officers head over to take statements from Debbie and her friends.

"There were other girls!," Debbie shouts. "They may have tried to run away. Find them before his partner does!"

"There was another man?"

"Driving a van. I didn't get a good look at him. The windows were tinted."

"A black van?"

"Yeah. Did you see it?"

"We received a report about a black van. Our men are tracking it down." Andrew's jammed into the back of a cop car and driven away. It's all like some horrible nightmare. He tries to stay calm. Buffy had her run-ins with the authorities. But she always emerged unscathed. And Rupert had connections. This was going to be taken care of. The girls were still free. All was not lost.

Yes it was. The Slayers couldn't get to the van without running past the cop cars. And fighting eight gun-toting cops was not in there job description. Certainly not for the five foreign girls, who had fears of being deported back to their homelands, or held indefinitely in some detention center. Though all alone, Arthur keeps his head. He had given the girls maps so that they could find their way to the parking lot of the shopping mall two miles to the south. This was the meeting point in case anything bad happened. He puts his foot on the gas pedal and makes his escape. But Arthur quickly realizes something is wrong. With their switchblades, Theo and Cynthia cut off the sensors, so that the enemy wouldn't know about this little advantage. In the process, Theo made a hole in the inner side of the left rear tire, and Cynthia made one in the right rear tire. Fleeing the cops. With two flats. Not to worry. He should still be able to make it a couple miles.

Once she left the graveyard, Tabitha frantically wrangled the Slayers. They're in a strange place, they may be wanted by the police and there is no sanctuary within easy reach. Not to worry, Tabitha tells them. We head south to the parking lot. Try to keep clear of the roads to avoid cops. Then get in the van and let Arthur drive them north to safety. Her leadership quickly quells the hysteria brought on by the unforeseen shock. Tabitha looks at the map. About a mile south of them, there was a small park, followed by some warehouses. If they made it to the park, they would be safe from the road-bound police in their cars. The girls run south, using all their Slayer speed. One problem: each of the four vampires hid high up in a palm tree, watching the proceedings. The cops were gone, looking for the van. And once the Slayers made a run for it, they jumped down to the ground and followed, practically drooling with anticipation. The Slayers were too busy running and watching for police cars to notice the vampires following their scent from a discreet distance. Fact is, once the police showed up, they forgot all about those loser vampires.

Once the Slayers hit the park, they slow down slightly, while Devlin revs up to top speed, the other three following as best they can. That the escape route went due south surprised him. He had imagined the Slayers bearing south and west, for the country club, where they'd have more than one hundred acres to hide out in until the heat died down and they could slink out of town. That would have been Devlin's dream hunt. The park is only a half-mile long and an eighth of a mile wide. A few softball fields, some trees, a few benches, a couple playgrounds. And all of it not more than 120 yards from people's houses. Not quite as secluded as Devlin wanted. But he could make it work.

"Hey ladies!!!," Devlin calls out when he closes to within one hundred feet of his prey. The twelve Slayers turn around and see four bumpy, fangy vampires. These must be the ones they had been preparing for. Looks like the night won't be a total loss. This is the sort of trouble the girls are prepared for. Each of them brandishes a stake. Devlin smiles and keeps on walking. Sidney trails him on his left. Paul and Luiz follow on Devlin's right. The fact that four vampires are approaching twelve Slayers with such complete confidence should have set off alarm bells. But the girls assume they're just knuckleheads who mistook the fleeing Slayers for helpless, frightened damsels. They pick up their pace, each Slayer about six feet from the girl on either side. The vampires are separated by fifteen feet from one another, which means that two Slayers outflank them on both ends. These girls on the flanks move forward faster than the others, making their line concave, complementing the vampires' convex formation. Devlin keeps his composure, and glances left and right to make sure the other three don't panic. He stares down Tabitha and Naomi, two veterans in the center. Matilda and Dominique, the other two veterans of Buffy's war with the first, are on the far right and far left, respectively.

Devlin stops. The other vampires follow suit. When Tabitha is within thirty feet of him, Dev reaches into the back of his pants and pulls out two Glock semi-automatic pistols equipped with laser sights. He quickly aims and squeezes the trigger, hitting Tabitha and Naomi in the kneecaps. The sound of gunfire and the sight of their leaders falling down stops all the other Slayers cold. Sid, Paul and Luiz each pull out one identically-equip Glock and open fire, aiming all shots below the waist. Fearing for their lives, girls try to run away. But the vampires, guided by those sights, unload a fusillade of accurate fire. Sidney takes down Matilda, plus the girl to her left. Devlin quickly caps the three girls to the right of Tabitha, plus the one to the left of Naomi. Paul handles the next two, and Luiz takes down Dominique, plus the girl to her right. In three seconds, they had unloaded more than forty rounds, nineteen of them hitting a Slayer's leg. Devlin and the others quickly swoop down on the agonized girls, growling, snarling and gloating.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen!," Devlin declares. He points his guns at Dominique's and Naomi's ankles, squeezing the trigger and shattering the bone. They cry out in pain. He does the same to Tabitha and Matilda. The veterans, the leaders, the ones who have the greatest faith in Buffy, need to made an example of. Other girls are moaning. A few try to stand up, which only gets them more lead from the nearest vamp. Sidney baits one, putting her face within a foot of a Slayer's, then pulling it back back when the Slayer lunges for her. "Behave yourself!," Dev commands, pointing the gun in his right hand at Sidney's face. Paul grabs one girl's hair and leans in to bite her neck. "No feeding!! That goes for everyone!," he yells at Luiz, who's blowing kisses to one of the girls. The vampires pout and whine. So much blood. So much Slayer blood. And not a drop to drink. Dev could be a real hardass.

"We ain't gonnna kill 'em," Paul argues.

"What's wrong with a taste?," Luiz asks.

"Because we are better than them. They would kill us if we were down. If we were helpless. But we will not stoop to their level. We obey the Rules of War, one of which is, you do not strike at an enemy who is no longer capable of doing you harm!" The vampires laugh. The Slayers wonder what Hell dimension they've stumbled into, where police help gun-wielding vamps who try to claim the moral high ground. Dev points his pistols at the foreheads of two Slayers, just in case there was any doubt that they were completely within his power. The humiliation was almost as bad as the pain. He points at two more, then two others, going down the line to sure he has the undivided attention of each and every Slayer. "Buffy Summers sent you here TO DIE! But Debbie decided that was unfair. SHE is the Slayer we fear. As for Buffy . . . " Devlin and the other vampires laugh as they back away. Dev swings his pistols like it's the Old West. The vampires melt away into the trees. Sidney pulls out her cell phone. The neighbors must have heard all that gunfire. But there were a few "details" it was important for the police to know.

"Hello! Hello!! Omigod! Omigod! I'm walking past Carver Park and I heard shots! Like a machine gun. Then a black van zoomed right past me and ran a stop sign. I'm so scared. I'm so scared. Please hurry" She hangs up. They laugh and give each other high fives.

"Not bad, Sid," Luiz offers.

"You sounded frightened, but you didn't overdue it," Paul concurs. Sidney jumps up, hugs Devlin and kisses his right cheek. Even as they hurry back to their own meeting point before the cops find them with these smoking guns, Devlin can't resist a chance to bask.

"Savor this moment, my friends. We just made history."

NEXT: The police found out about Andrew's outstanding warrant. Buffy finds out about the disaster, goes ballistic, and blames Angel and Wolfram & Hart. After all, these kids couldn't have pulled off something this big completely on their own. Oh, and the Feds begin to wonder why Rupert is taking all these underage girls away from their families. Buffy, Giles and Andrew could really use some good lawyers right about now.


	17. Giles blames Angel, who tells Giles off

Angel has some angry words for Giles. Gretchen tries to calm Buffy down, while Dawn wonders why everyone's acting so weird today. Surely they can't be this worried about the upcoming apocalypse in Cleveland. And Gunn uses his connectios to learn what he can about Buffy's and Andrew's numerous legal troubles.

Andrew sits at a table in the center of the interrogation room. Two cops are attempting to interrogate him. "What was your interest in this girl?"

"Was it a crime to talk to her?"

"Who were you planning on knocking out?," the other one asks.

"Is possession of a non-lethal weapon even a felony?"

"We tried to find that Dana girl. We couldn't. She's been missing for more than a month. Can you help us find her?"

"Am I being charged with anything?"

"If you want to say anything about the people you work for, now would be the time. Guy like you, you're replaceable. We want the leader. Give him to us, and you're only looking at a few years. Keep your mouth shut, and you'll get life."

"You know what else I found out about Dana? She's an orphan. Much like Debbie. Is this your M.O.? Take the girls nobody will miss?"

"All you have is her word. And she's lying."

"Who's your accomplice!? We'll find him. And if he wants to talk to save his own skin, you're outta luck." The other cop leaves. Outside, he's handed a folder by an assistant Orange County D.A., who whispers a few things in his ear. He bursts back in, smiling, and drop the folder on the table.

"You've been quite the busy criminal, Andrew. Always taking the fall for someone else. Sacrificial lamb-for-hire. You don't want to take about Dana just yet, that's fine by me. Tell us where we can find Warren Mears and Jonathan Levin." Andrew starts to sweat.

Ten o'clock, Friday morning. Wes, Fred and Gunn sit in the conference room. Angel enters. "Can you imagine finding out part of your memory had been erased?," Fred asks. "That you've completely forgotten about someone who played an important role in your life?"

"And they can't remember you," Wesley adds. "Or any of your friends, because might remind that person of you."

"All cause someone finds the memories too painful," Gunn notes.

"I can't believe he thought he could keep up that level of deception indefinitely, to say nothing of building a business based on it," Fred offers. All this talk about erasing memories is making Angel very nervous.

"Morning. What are you talking about?"

"Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," Wesley responds. "Fred and I saw it last night."

"Have you seen it?," Fred asks.

"No." And now that he knew what it was about, he'd make sure he never did. Angel sits down to begin the meeting. Harmony enters. "I told you to hold my calls," Angel barks out.

"It's Rupert Giles. He's demanding to speak with you. Sounds pretty angry."

"Fine. Patch him onto the speaker phone in here." Angel groans. "I wonder what moral failings he's calling to harangue us about today. Rupert. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"You know damn well what."

"If I did, I wouldn't have asked."

"Was this your idea of revenge? Or did you do it merely because you could?"

"You'll have to be more specific." Angel's getting annoyed with Rupert's holier-than-thou attitude.

"Twelve young women in the hospital. Is that specific enough?" Angel perks up, as do the others. Giles had their undivided attention.

Arthur made it to the empty parking lot, but on his back rims. He only has one spare. The van must be ditched. He puts it in the back corner of the mall's vast lot. Then he collects all the miscellaneous weapons into a duffel bag and hides the bag under a large bush in a nearby gulley. The police will eventually find the vehicle. Hopefully the girls will arrive before them. He can lead them away, then get a rental or call a few taxis to take them back home. The cops hadn't seen him. He doesn't think they saw enough of any of the girls to make an id. The van's all they've got. Thus the ditching. By the time they connected it to him, the Slayers would be out of the country. Arthur hides behind a hedge. If the Slayers arrive, he'll show himself. If the police show up, he'll jump into the storm sewers through a grate he opened in the gulley. The cops get there first. Two of them, in one squad car. Arthur quietly sneaks off and ducks underground.

"You think this was my work!?," an outraged Angel shouts into the speaker.

"Whoever did this took special care to make sure none of these girls was killed. Vampires don't behave like that unless they have a very good reason."

"Why would I send vampires? And why would I leave these girls on the ground? I don't see why I would ever order something like this. I understand why you're looking for someone to blame, but I'm not the guy."

"She knew they were coming. Maybe you didn't orchestrate the operation, but someone HAD to supply the intelligence. Who better than your firm?"

"Rupert, I didn't know these Slayers were here until ten minutes ago. I didn't have any warning the last time they were here, either."

"And you wanted to make up for that."

"Let me see if I'm hearing you correctly, Rupert. You think this Slayer works for me, and I didn't want you to take her away. That I knew these Slayers had returned to collect her. And I chose to deal with the matter gangland style? Why wouldn't I sit Andrew down and negotiate? Or, better yet, why wouldn't I go after the Slayers when they were still in Los Angeles? It seems rather counterintuitive that I would wait until they were the maximum distance from me before I took any action. I had absolutely nothing to do with any of this. My firm had absolutely nothing to do with any of this."

"You had nothing to do with this Slayer?"

"You heard me before." Angel's evading the question so as not to lie.

"A Slayer flaunts her power for months, right under your nose, and you know nothing of it?"

"Her flaunting has been somewhat limited," Wesley interjects. "And we became aware of it last week."

"The truth finally starts to come out," Giles responds.

"Last Thursday, a week before she met Andrew, Debbie met us. Spike and I went down to check out the situation. We cornered four vampires who were attacking two humans, and rescued the humans. But Debbie slayed the vampires before we could."

"Four vampires. That's a lot, even for a Slayer."

"She had friends with crossbows. They stayed out of sight. Looked like a very disciplined operation. We talked to her. She was resistant. Two of her snipers put arrows in our chests, inches from our hearts. She said the next shots would hit the mark. We left. I had no choice. There was no evidence she, or any of her friends, had broken any laws. They were doing what they were supposed to do, and they didn't want to be bothered. I respected that. Besides, southern Orange County is well outside my focus area. I have enough trouble in this city. I can't afford to take on the exurbs."

"Then why did you have an extended meeting with her on Monday night?"

Angel's aghast. "Are you spying on me?"

"He was spying on Debbie," Wesley assumes.

"I was reaching out to this girl," Angel explains. "I was beginning to break down the layers of mistrust. Perhaps Rupert, if you had given me another week, she would have voluntarily joined your team. Instead, you send in the storm troopers and scare the Hell out of her."

"We aren't talking about some innocent. We're talking about a Rogue Slayer with her own hit squad of vampires. Don't tell me you were ignorant of this facet."

"Of course I disapprove of that aspect of her behavior. But it's complicated."

"They haven't killed anyone," Wesley reports. "In fact, vampire attacks in Orange County have substantially decreased since they began working for Debbie."

"It's weird. It's even a little bit sick," Angel concedes. "But they stayed well out-of-sight when I was with Debbie. I never had the chance to kill them. I tried to warn Debbie that she's playing with nitroglycerine. But they haven't done anything to make her change her mind."

"It's symbiotic," Wesley argues. "With the profusion of Slayers, vampires face more risks than ever before. By giving up on feeding, they gain the protection of a Slayer. And she gains the security of some extra muscle. It's inherently unstable, but this was her decision, so it's her problem."

"Seems to me the only thing I'm guilty of is not helping you," Angel tells Giles. "Then again, you never asked for my help. But that's the way you like to operate. It preserves your precious illusion of moral purity."

"Now listen here, what the bloody hell are you talking about?," Giles stammers, confused and infuriated by Angel's digressions.

"You would have liked it better if I had never taken over the LA office of Wolfram & Hart."

"I would prefer it you didn't choose to lead evil organizations. I'm not alone in that sentiment, Angel."

Angel rises to his feet in anger. "Then tell me which of your Slayers you'd want to be dead. And while you're thinking about that, tell me who else shouldn't have made it out of Sunnydale. Xander? Dawn? You? Because if I had never taken this job, you could never have closed the Hellmouth. I think we both know how much harder stopping that apocalypse would have been without the assistance of Wolfram & Hart. Talking like a saint while profiting from Faustian bargains is a tad hypocritical, Rupert. So then next time you – or anyone else – thinks of condemning me, decide who should have died. I think half the Slayers and half of Buffy's friends would be a conservative estimate of casualties in a necklace-free battle. I hear the only thing tougher than killing one hundred Turokh-hans is trying to kill another hundred right afterwards. Even Slayers get fatigued. To say nothing about the rest of you. So until you've come up with that list, don't condemn me, or Wesley, or any of my friends. And don't come whining to me about your own goddam failures. It's not my problem you can't find competent people to delegate important tasks to. I have never, in any way, brought harm to any of your new Slayers. In fact, I am the reason some of them are still alive. I'm sorry about what happened. I wish I could have stopped it. If I had known about your plans, I would have. I'm sorry that some wonderful girls you care very much for were hurt because you kept me out of the loop." Giles hangs up. Angel takes his seat again and calms down. "I'm sorry about that," he says to his friends.

"If you hadn't said those things, I would have," Wesley offers.

"It's like he burned the bridge and blamed you when he couldn't drive his car across," Gunn comments.

"Willow made Rupert Giles sound intelligent and empathetic," Fred recalls. "What happened?" It was hard to believe that the intolerant spurner of Angel was also the understanding and patient rehabilitator of Willow.

"Power," Angel responds, causing all of them to reflect on whether they have become corrupted. Spike enters.

"Sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything?"

Buffy slams her right fist into the top of a metal file cabinet, leaving a three inch-deep indentation. "How the HELL could this happen?" She's not used to setbacks, especially catastrophic ones that occur on routine missions.

"We sent a man to a state where he was wanted by the authorities," Gretchen notes, diplomatically using we' to spread the blame amongst people who weren't involved in the decision, such as herself. Buffy overlooks the I told you so' implications of Gretchen's remark, since Gretch put it so politely. Also, as the only one who objected to sending Andrew before-the-fact, Gretchen had every right to point out mistakes.

"But how could this girl have known that?"

"She didn't. Ergo the outrageous sex slavery allegations."

"She was ready. She was prepared. Someone had taught her to be very afraid of us."

"Probably those vampires she hangs with." Specifically, the vampire who used to be Gretchen's older brother, until Herman was sired by Buffy's ex-lover. It's good these two have no idea what they have in common.

"Slayers don't call the cops. How did she know they'd be on her side?" After all, they were never on Buffy's.

"All indications were that the authorities were against her. They seemed to view her and her friends as delinquents at best and proto gang members at worst. Remember, she didn't make the call. Still, you're right. None of us saw that coming."

"But she saw us coming."

"Maybe she came up with the plan a long while back and told her friends what to do if a man and a teenage girl ever approached them in a graveyard at night."

"And she had her vampires lying in wait night-after-night, just in case?"

"You're right. The slashed tires and the gun-toting bloodsuckers were too perfect. But how could they know?"

Spike absorbs the news, trying not to appear too proud over his protege's brilliant tactical achievement. "Dev wus always a very clever boy."

"Nothing clever in deploying overwhelming firepower," Wesley counters. "I should have thought of it myself." Wesley's friends worry that his incipient darkness is finally taking over. "Not with live ammunition," he assures them. "Using tranquilizer darts. We had enough men on the scene to disable them all. We could have detained them until they regained consciousness, then sent them on their merry way home. Without Dana."

"Remember when we met Deb, and she said if Buffy tried anything, there'd be Hell to pay?," Spike asks Angel.

"I thought the girl was hopelessly out of her league," Angel recalls.

"She was," Wesley counters. "You just had the wrong girl." Perhaps this was a tad harsh, but Wes had never subscribed to a belief in Buffy's infallibility. Angel doesn't want the conversation to degenerate into shadenfreude and Buffy-bashing.

"Gunn, I want you to find out all you can about their legal troubles. Fred, contact the hospital and get a report on everyone's condition. Find out if there's anything we can do to help. Specialists. Coverage of medical bills. You name it. Wesley, check for leaks."

"Inside Wolfram & Hart?"

"You think this vampire's got spies on the inside?," Gunn asks.

"Definitely Dev's style," Spike comments.

"Though maybe beyond his ability," Fred argues, irking Spike.

"Debbie knew about Dana," Angel explains. "She knew about the Slayer battalion. How? Who told her boyfriend?" Everyone looks at Spike.

"Yes. That was an episode in my life I'd be glad to recount," he quips. "It never came up." Spike looks at Angel. "In case you forgot, Deb mentioned the New Model Army at our first meeting."

"New Model Army?," Wes asks.

"Dev compared Buffy to Cromwell." Wes, Spike and Angel all shudder.

"Thankfully, I fail to see the resemblance," Wes comments.

"Let's get to work," Angel commands. "I need answers by six o'clock. Roman time."

Giles tries to comfort Buffy, who looks at the weapons on the wall in the training room. Gretchen is with him. "This will blow over. The girls will heal."

"They won't forget."

"All of them have been injured before," Giles responds.

"They've never been defeated. It's going to poison the morale of everyone."

"The only people who know are in this room," Giles reports.

"When they return, word's going to spread. We need to break the news before then."

"It wasn't your fault," Gretchen assures Buffy.

"We got lazy. We dropped our guard."

"Certainly our methods will need to be, revised," Giles proposes. Dawn pops her head in.

"Did someone die?" They turn and see Dawn, whose presence startled them.

"No Dawny."

"You guys have been acting funny all day."

"It's the looming apocalypse," Giles offers as an excuse.

"The first since the First. Still kinda hard to get worked up about," Dawn jokes.

"Don't you have school?," Buffy asks.

"It's four pm. I just got back."

"Then you have homework." Dawn scowls and leaves. She's still never included in anything.

"Change of plans?," Gretchen asks Buffy.

"No. You still leave tomorrow for Cleveland with Rona and Vi." She reaches up to grab the Scythe, which hangs above the common weapons. "And give them this."

Their mission complete, everyone meets at the vampires' apartment to celebrate. DMX is on the stereo. "I still can't believe we really pulled it off," Cynthia says to her best friend.

"Were you scared?," Debbie asks her.

"Were you?"

"A little," the Slayer confesses. "Okay, a lot. Lucky for me, they didn't wanna throw down from the get-go." Dev puts his right arm around Deb's shoulders and drinks the beer he holds in his left hand.

"They still wouldn't have escaped," he assures her. "Even if they left before the cops arrived, the police had the plate number. Thanks to Cynth. And Theo." He finishes the beer, lifts Deb off her feet and spins her around. She screams and laughs. Deb smiles, bites her lip and touches the tip of her nose to his.

"Man, did I luck out when you came my way."

"I lucked out. You deserved a helping hand. I never deserved you."

"Oh stop it," she says before kissing him. When they're done smooching, Melanie hands Debbie a daiquiri. She raises the glass. "To freedom." Everyone cheers and drinks to that. Except Dev, who's empty-handed. He picks up another beer.

"To love," he says to Deb. "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose."

"Plagiarist," she kids before clinking glasses with him and finishing her drink.

A few hours later. Devlin looks down at his beautiful, happy sleeping Slayer. He's too wired for shuteye. And he can't help wondering about the driver who got away. With two flats, he couldn't have gotten far. So Devlin gets dressed and returns to the scene of the ambush. He saw the van go south on Park Street. As Dev follows that route, he quickly realizes that he can smell the iron shavings left behind when the van's bald rims contacted the pavement. It smells a little like the blood trail of wounded prey. Pretty soon, Dev finds himself in the mall parking lot. Van's gone. The vampire sleuth reviews his options. No one carries two spares. No nearby auto parts stores were open at the proper time, so no way the guy made it out of town in the van. It had to be towed away. Perhaps to a shop, if the guy could get a tow before the cops found him. Which was possible, since the police didn't know about the vehicle's compromised condition and thus would look for it speeding away on some nearby road. Or the police themselves impounded it. Either way, the guy could still be loose, and on foot. Talk about a sweet catch. His very own prisoner-of-war. The Council's humiliation would be total.

Devlin grins as he sniffs around for a fresh human scent. But he fails to pick up any. Perhaps footprints remained. A man on the run would flee away from the road. He sees some trampled weeds, and follows the faint path to a removed sewer grate. Hiding in the vampires' terrain. This guy had moxie. But right before Devlin leaps down, he sees a brown strap lying on the ground, jutting out from a bush twenty feet in front of him. Dev rushes over, finds a duffel bag, opens it, and is overjoyed. Their weapons cache! A trophy!! Devlin forgets about his prisoner and returns home with the booty. Cornering a desperate and armed man who has nothing to lose can be quite dangerous. Why risk sullying a perfect night?

Angel sits behind his desk. Spike sits on the couch. "You're proud of the little bastard," Angel declares.

"Proud of what? His proficiency at hurting Slayers? I can't get the image of those gunned-down girls out of my bloody head."

"What about on a purely tactical level?"

"Sounds like I'm not the one who's impressed."

"Using the police was a nice touch," Angel concedes. "Never would have occurred to me. If I were evil."

"Because it's cheating." In an odd reversal, Angel's complimenting Devlin, while his sire is seeking to minimize his achievements.

"Same thing with the guns."

"He didn't have a bloody choice. Four vampires against twelve Slayers. What would you have done?" Now the dynamic's back to normal.

"Try to scatter them. Maybe take one or two hostage. Why are we talking about this?" Angel doesn't like even pretending to be evil.

"Look on the bright side," Spike offers. "Your choice to leave the boy and his pet alone looks very smart right about now."

"I'm not scared of this punk. I could take him out in a second. Which is why he'd probably hide and send Debbie's human friends out to kill me, knowing that I'd feel bad about hurting them."

"No bloody way you could take him."

"You think HE could kill ME?"

"Wouldn't go that far. But Dev's a fine fighter. He knows how to win when he can. And he knows how not to lose when he can't."

"So he'd run before I had a chance to stake him."

"Underestimate this boy at you own bloody cost, Angel. I think today's news should have taught you at least that." Fred, Wes and Gunn file in. Charles looks especially thrown. The other two sit down, but he remains standing.

"Quite a hornet's nest they whacked last night," Gunn begins.

"Is Buffy in any legal danger?," Angel asks.

"Not right now. Andrew Wells isn't so lucky. Turns out he's wanted for attempted armed robbery in Santa Barbara County."

"Santa Barbara. That's near Sunnydale," Angel recalls.

"Along with two other young men, he assaulted two security guards and tried to rob an armored car in the town of Sunnydale on May 6, 2002. Mister Wells was arrested along with Jonathan Levin. They escaped from lockup the following night."

"Rupert hired a wanted criminal and known fugitive?," Wesley asks.

"Buffy believes in redemption," Angel replies, giving Spike a withering glance. He doesn't know that was also the night Spike tried to rape Buffy, since he doesn't know that such an attempted rape even took place.

Gunn continues. "I talked to the D.A. up there. They got two eyewitnesses, plus he was arrested at the scene. Pretty close to a slam-dunk."

"He's looking at jail time," Spike infers.

"Five to ten years if he says nothing. Three to five if he gives them one of his accomplices. One to three if he gives them both."

Spike chuckles. "They're both dead. Andrew killed Jonathan himself."

"He's a murderer!," Fred exclaims. "Does Buffy know?"

"It's what got him a seat on the Scooby bus," Spike reports. "Andrew uncovered a very nasty seal atop the Hellmouth and tried to raise an uber-vamp by soaking it in his best friend's blood. But since his best friend didn't have enough, the First's minions kidnapped and bled me instead. I spent the next few days getting tortured by that bat-faced bugger." This elicits a sympathetic glance from Fred.

Wesley's beside himself. "You're telling me that Rupert Giles put Slayers in the custody of a known killer and wanted felon who clearly possesses no special powers that could compensate for such gross moral deficiencies?"

"There's a real Watcher shortage," Spike quips.

"And he dares to claim the moral high ground against us," Wesley fumes.

"If only that were the worst of it," Gunn warns. "I haven't even gotten to the part where the F.B.I. got involved."

"Andrew's in trouble with the Feds?," Angel asks.

"No. But Buffy may be. And Rupert Giles."

"For what!?," Angel demands to know.

"This is where it gets unreal . . . "

NEXT: The Justice Department starts to wonder what Giles is doing with all those underage girls. Buffy calls to speak with Angel. But first, Harmony takes the opportunity to gloat. Meanwhile, a guilty Debbie pays a visit to the injured girls to apologize and try to explain herself. And Arthur shows up at Angel's door, begging for sanctuary. Turns out Wesley knows Arthur from his Rogue Demon Hunter days. Oh, and Buffy discovers that the police investigation is preventing her from preventing the apocalypse.


	18. Buffy comes a'calling

Buffy talks with Angel. But not before Harmony gets a chance to gloat about her old enemy's current misfortunes.

"Pornography and prostitution." Angel and Spike nearly fall out of their chairs. Wes and Fred are dumbstruck. Then something occurs to Spike.

"Those wankers! They must've had a camera in my crypt." Everyone looks at Spike. No one wants to ask him to explain. Charles goes on.

"Debbie told the cops that Andrew was rounding up girls and taking them out of the country for . . . illicit purposes."

"The police think this Andrew guy's supposed to be some sort of pimp?," Angel asks in disbelief. Everyone has a laugh at the idea.

"The taser and tranquilizer gun found on him led police to conclude that Andrew intended to incapacitate the girl."

"Not a bad cover story," Spike comments. "Wonder if Dev thought it up."

"To top it off, Debbie said Andrew had kidnapped others girl, who were with Andrew's helper. She also strongly hinted that they may use the presence of the police to attempt an escape from their captors'."

"Bloody brilliant," Spike marvels. Wes, Fred and Angel aren't exactly in agreement.

"The name of Andrew's accomplice is Arthur Bolingbroke." Wesley gasps.

"That ring a bell?," Fred asks.

"I knew a demon fighter who went by that name back in my Rogue Demon Hunter days."

"A van registered in his name was found in a Laguna Hills parking lot. A search warrant was executed this morning at his Lakewood apartment, where the Los Angeles County Police found an usually large number of cots and sleeping bags. Orange County P.D. suspects him of shooting the girls, then fleeing when the cops arrived. The nature of the injuries suggests an assailant wanted to prevent their escape but didn't want to permanently harm the merchandise,' so to speak. He's still at large."

"Providing an alternate assailant with an alternate motive for a crime you are about to commit," Wes sums up. "I must admit, it's not entirely devoid of ingenuity."

"So where does Buffy fit into this web of lies?," Angel demands to know. He's gone from Shadenfreude towards Buffy and Giles to rage at the devious vampire Devlin.

"Here's how my contact at the Justice Department put it: What is this fifty five year old man doing with all these underage girls?' For people who don't believe in vampires, and who know nothing of Slayers, it's damn hard to see how he could be up to any good." The room goes quiet for a few seconds.

"I never looked at it that way," Fred comments sheepishly.

"I never wanted to," Wesley adds, deeply disturbed by the idea of Rupert Giles, jailbait smut peddler.

"My parents thought you guys were in porno before the demons attacked us," Fred recalls. "Ah'm jus' sayin', when you're young and pretty and in a big city and unable to explain how you make a living, people wonder."

"This wus back when Cordelia was with you?," Spike asks, creeping out everyone by contemplating the concept. "I suppose they assumed you two worked behind the camera," Spike surmises, looking dismissively at Angel and Wesley. They decide to return to the original unsettling idea.

"They think Buffy's a, ahh, umm, uhh, porn star?," Angel meekly asks. Spike decides against making any asides about his knowledge of her abilities in that department.

"No. Not anymore." Spike really has to fight hard to resist the urge to comment. "Andrew had on him a PDA containing Buffy's and Rupert's current addresses. The Feds were able to pull up his immigration documents, and quickly noticed that he was a librarian at Buffy's high school, and that he left his job when she graduated."

"How do I fit into this?," Wes asks nervously.

"You don't." He breathes a sigh of relief. "The irony is, most Slayers, or at least most of the ones Buffy's gathered, come from broken homes or lack parents entirely, which makes them prime targets for sexual exploitation." Angel and Spike suddenly feel very self-conscious. "None of this prurient speculation would have caught the attention of law enforcement if it weren't for the fact that the Head Slayer and the Head Watcher went from barely getting by to owning an entire block in the suburbs of Rome virtually overnight."

"Buffy's out of the country. They can't touch her," Angel argues.

"Debbie also mentioned a Dana from LA who went missing in January."

"I suppose that could technically be termed a kidnapping," Wes comments.

"Which, according to federal law, can get you life in prison." Everyone gulps.

"Would the Italians extradite?," Wes wonders.

"Two non-citizens? For a non-capital charge? In a heartbeat. Okay, more like three days. They have until Monday morning to produce Dana. If they don't, local cops will bust in, put them into custody and turn the Slayer Academy upside down looking for evidence. Until then, the Roman police have the compound under twenty four-hour surveillance. They may have also tapped the phones."

"She's under siege," Angel laments.

"The Italians don't by the pornographer theory. They think it's nonsense such a huge commercial operation could be run right under their noses. But kidnapping they take seriously. Right now, your old friends could use a very good lawyer." Everyone stares at Gunn. "That wasn't a suggestion."

"You're taking care of this," Angel orders.

"We do favors for people who stab us in the back?," Wesley complains.

"Now is not the time for payback."

"What about respect?"

"They're blaming us for their problems," Fred points out. "If we magically made the problems go away, wouldn't that look a tad suspicious?"

"Dana is our perceived grievance," Gunn reminds Angel. "We're the only ones who know where she went. It's not just suspicious. It's transparent."

"Speaking of which, how is your search for the leak going?," Angel asks Wesley.

"I started with the security services, who saw Dana and the other Slayers on the night in question. But considering how Devlin killed, maimed or injured six of our guards this past Monday, I don't see why any of them would risk their careers to help him. Then I considered the medical staff who worked on Spike. But the vampire would only contact them if he knew what had happened, in which case he wouldn't need to. Therefore, the connection had to precede the event."

"The computer people," Fred suggests. "He's a hacker from way back."

Wesley smiles. "Great minds think alike, I suppose. I've already initiated background checks on the technical staff. If that turns up nothing, then I move on to our vampire employees." Angel looks at Spike.

"We already know it bloody well couldn't have been me. I'm not the only vampire here!"

Out in the lobby, Harmony picks up the phone. "Wolfram & Hart. Angel's office. How may I help you." Buffy puts her hand to her forehead.

"Perfect. It's you."

"Buffy!! This is sooo cool! Talking to you, that is. Not the meltdown you guys had last night. That certainly wasn't cool. Don't worry, Buffy. Even I've had a plan or two that's backfired. The trick is to get back on your feet and keep trying. Things'll go your way eventually."

Buffy felt as if she were trapped in some Hell Dimension. Police at her door. Slayers in the hospital. And now she has to take gloating from Harmony. "Put Angel on now."

"He's in a meeting. The important thing is, you have your health. You're young. Not as young as me. But young enough to start over from scratch." If only there was a way Buffy could travel through the wires to LA and beat Harmony to a bloody pulp.

"Put . . . Angel . . . on . . . now." Harmony can hear Buffy grinding her teeth.

"I'll see what I can do," Harmony breezily responds. "Please hold." Once Buffy's on hold, Harmony does a brief Dance of Joy without ever leaving her chair. Her new vampire friends are SO COOL! The vampire she had once dismissed at Spike Junior has caused Buffy more aggravation than Spike himself ever could. And Devlin did it all without getting the crap kicked out of him! For the first time, Harmony finds herself turned on by a man's intelligence. That sexy, Slayer-annihilating, Buffy-tormenting brain. And the best part was, she got to mess with Buffy. She got to play a part! "Buffy?"

"Put . . . Angel - "

"You're still on the line. Good. See, the thing is, there's an emergency conference going on in his office right now over, well, no need to bore you with other people's emergencies when you have one of your own." Buffy was definitely going to make Harmony pay for this. "I told him it was you, but he didn't believe me. Let me try again." She puts Buffy on hold for a second time and does a reprise of her Dance of Joy. This was better than sex.

"No one is in any danger of dying," Fred assures Angel. "Three girls have shattered kneecaps. Four have shattered ankles. Although two have shattered kneecaps and ankles. There's overlap. Seven others have either a broken tibia or femur. The other four have muscle and ligament damage. Normally, it would take months for most of them to fully recover. With Slayers, probably a lot sooner. Doctors have already noticed the accelerated healing. Ah guess most of 'em could be outta there and headin' home in three or four days. But the five with the most serious injuries, I don't see how they could be Slaying for at least a month, super powers or not."

"See if we can discretely send in one of our specialists," Angel orders.

"The ones with the claws or the ones with the webbing?," Fred jokes, pointing out how hard it would be to maintain discretion. Angel's phone rings.

"Harmony, not now!"

"Sorry boss. I'll tell Buffy you're too busy." Angel pauses.

"That's not funny."

"Trust me, she's not laughing."

"One second." Angel hangs up. "Get out." His friends look offended. "I'm sorry. But this is a private call."

"Is it - " Wesley begins.

"Buffy?," Fred finishes. They can deduce the answer from Angel's non-denial.

"This involves all of us. You need to put her on speaker," Spike mischievously suggests.

"Spike, get out."

"Or what, you'll fight me to the death? We both know how that turned out last time." Angel lands a right hook. Spike staggers back, then laughs. "You're right. This probably isn't the right moment for me to tell her the good news about my return. Better to be the vampire she thinks is dead than the vampire she wishes were dead." Spike leaves after the others. Angel takes a moment to try to relax, then picks up.

"Good to hear from you, Buffy. It's been far too long."

"Just tell me, yes or no, did you have ANYTHING to do with this?"

"So now you're back to trusting me?"

"I trust you not to flat-out lie to me."

"No. I didn't even know you girls were in the neighborhood until Rupert called."

"But you know her?"

"You mean Debbie? We've talked."

"For three hours. The pictures made you two look pretty chummy."

"I don't believe this."

"I wasn't spying on you. You're the one keeping tabs on me."

"That's not true. I have no control over the Rome office. Besides, I know it was Debbie you were spying on. What I don't understand is how your people botched the operation so badly after all that surveillance work."

"Let me guess: you were trying to reform her? Bring a Rogue Slayer back into the fold. Wouldn't be the first time."

"Debbie is nothing like Faith. (To start with, Faith has much better taste in vampires.) She's never killed a human being. She knows the difference between right and wrong."

"And yet she works with vampires."

"It's her boyfriend who's the problem."

"He works with vampires? No. Oh, God. Ohhh, God. Please, don't tell me her boyfriend's a — "

"It was a shock for me, too. Are you feeling nauseous? I was after I found out."

"Did he tell her he had a soul?" Buffy fears she unwittingly started a trend that other vampires are now capitalizing on.

"Debbie thinks he's good despite the fact that he's soulless. On this point, on this very crucial point, she won't listen to reason. She's blinded by love, I guess."

"L-l-love. She's in love with this soulless monster?" It's good that Angel's holding back about Spike being Devlin's sire. He doesn't want to completely freak Buffy out. Also, it's not as if Buffy's been very forthcoming herself as of late.

"They live together. He makes her feel safe or something. I think this guy's got it in for you. He's filled her head with all these lies about you. I tried very hard to set her straight. But she's dependent on him. And the sad thing is, he may just be using her to get to you."

"I think the sad part is all the people he's killing right under her nose. And under yours."

"If they were feeding, I would have taken them out. But they haven't been. Vamp attacks in Orange County are way down since Debbie got her power. And they stayed down even after the vamps arrived." He's clouding the chronology to hide the fact that Debbie wasn't doing any Slaying until Devlin arrived. The idea of the soulless monster doubling as a Watcher might be too much for Buffy to contemplate right now.

"If they're not feeding, what's in it for them? Are they all chipped?" God forbid if the military inadvertently created a horde of neutered Slayer-loving vampires. Riley would certainly resign his commission in disgust if that was the unintended legacy of the Initiative.

"Then they couldn't have shot those Slayers."

"Good point."

"The other vampires are dating her friends."

"Okay. Now I'm nauseous." It all sounds like some horrible mutant Bizarro Scooby Gang.

"Sex substituted for blood. It's a very revolting trade-off." Disgusting and ironic, from Angel's point of view, since it's a trade he can't make. For him, it's usually been both or neither.

"So, you think these kids aren't evil. Just sick. Deeply, deeply sick." Buffy's overcompensating because of her affair with soulless Spike.

"And also a tad malicious."

"A lot more than a tad, considering what happened."

"Buffy, I understand why you did what you did with regards to Dana."

"What did Andrew say, exactly? He can get melodramatic and overstate things. He might have led you to believe I viewed you as an enemy, which I don't."

"But she's a Slayer, making her your responsibility. I would have handed her over willingly. If you had asked."

"What does this have to do with Debbie? It BETTER have nothing to do with her." Otherwise, Angel would be implying that last night really was payback.

"You don't always have use overwhelming force. That approach always leads to resentment. And, sometimes, people take the implied threat far too seriously."

"It's easy to give advice in hindsight," Buffy snaps. She is definitely not in the mood for advice.

"Maybe, if you hadn't shut me out, it wouldn't have been."

At six-thirty that morning, Debbie's alarm goes off. She reaches out her right hand and slams the snooze bar. Devlin slowly removes the blanket. Debbie looks to her right and sees that he's awake and dressed. "What's up with you being up?"

"Too excited to sleep."

"I thought I wore you down . . . celebrating," she replies with a grin.

"Business beckoned. A loose end needed tying. Police have the van. Saw it in their impound garage. The driver got away. But he ditched his weapons." Dev opens up the heavy duffel bag. Deb smiles and leaps out of bed. "Gets you pretty stoked, until you realize who they were supposed to be used against." She picks up a double-bladed ax. "I'm pretty sure that was meant for me, not you." Deb hands it to him and grabs a bolt-action tranquilizer rifle.

"This must've been for me," she concludes. "Don't they use these on circus elephants?"

"I took out the dart he had loaded in there. Enough juice to knock you out for close to twenty hours."

"Long enough to get me to Rome."

"Yeah," he says, visibly upset by the thought, just as Debbie is.

"All yesterday, at school, I kept wondering what would happen if they did get me. Who would make a fuss? My mom's dead. Dad's in prison. I threw my aunt out. Maybe my friends, but they're just kids. I'd be gone, with no one to make them send me back."

"You're welcome."

"You could at least let me get to the thank you' part before basking in your reflected glory." He stands on front of the mirror atop her dresser. "Okay, wrong word," she concedes, hugging him from behind, though in the mirror it looks like she's embracing a mirage. Deb frowns. She hates it when the mirror editorializes.

"To unforeseen consequence," Rupert tells Gretchen before they clink wine glasses. He's over at her place for a romantic candlelit dinner, care of the Rome Police, The United States Justice Department, and, ultimately, Gretchen's former brother. The investigation has them all temporarily grounded.

"I had to break a date with Rona and Vi," Gretchen jokes. "Something tells me they weren't too crushed that I stood them up."

"I recall Vi hugging me when she learned she was stranded' in Rome for the weekend."

"It's her first Friday and Saturday nights when she can party without having to scope every place she goes for vampires."

"One of the benefits of living in a city with the world's only Slayer Academy. You think the authorities would appreciate the drop in violent crime."

"They do."

"You talked with them today?"

"I talked with everybody. The locals know the charges are bogus."

"If only the Americans could be so reasonable."

"Dana was institutionalized. She's a ward of the state. It's a lot easier to get parents to sign away guardianship. Also, she's wanted for murder."

"Don't those two things cancel each other out?"

"How lawyerly of you, Rupert. Yes, they do."

"And, to put it bluntly, why wouldn't the State of California welcome the chance to get such an expensive and risky burden off their hands?"

"Once again, you make a good point. However, there is the issue of the victim's family. When you lose someone you love to a senseless act of violence, you need to put a face to a deed, and to be certain the person with that face will never be free to do hurt anyone else." Giles puts his right hand on top of her left. "Sorry. Didn't mean to sound like I was identifying." The phone rings. Gretchen gets up to answer it.

"Is John Asscroft going to save the world now that we can't?," Buffy asks.

"John ASHcroft. And no, he won't. Which doesn't matter, since the world doesn't need saving this weekend."

"How can you be so sure? We don't know which day it will happen."

"Is that Buffy?," Giles asks after swallowing a mouthful of antipasto. "Remind her about the lunar cycle."

"Rupert said remember that stuff about the moon and how it's not waxing on or off or whatever this weekend."

"We have girls in the states. Why don't we call and tell a few to head to Cleveland?"

"They don't have the Scythe. Also, they're not as experienced as Rona and Vi. Have you talked to Robin?," Gretchen asks Buffy.

"Umm, no. That's sort of yours and Giles's thing cause of, you know."

"Between you and me, you did the right thing on that night," Gretchen whispers.

"Well, it's easy to come down on my side in retrospect."

"It was unprofessional of him. Whether or not Spike was a danger had nothing to do with whether or not someone was around who had a score to settle. But that's in the past. In the present, I told Robin he wouldn't have any Slayers until Monday, and he said fine. If the guy standing on the Hellmouth isn't worried about the delay, why should you?"

"Technically, the school's more than a mile from the actual Hellmouth. He could be missing some of the warning signs."

"Like the Cavs winning the championship," Gretchen jokes. Buffy, who think Gretch is referring to leg muscles or baby cattle, doesn't get it. "I know it must be frustrating to have someone tie you hands and prevent you from doing your job. But we'll have all this legal stuff worked out in time. I promise. And so does Rupert." After Buffy hangs up, a Mediterranean hunk in his late-twenties walks up from behind and rubs her shoulders. It's the same man Devlin saw her with in South Africa six months earlier.

"The bad fortune will pass."

"I know," she concedes, turning around, looking up at the guy and smiling.

"You hate the scrutiny. The misunderstandings."

"I'm used to those. It's the powerlessness that gets to me." How Devlin would love to hear this.

"These fools can't take away your power. No one can."

"But they can keep me from doing my job."

"It happens. This is nothing new. The Council has always clashed with kings and princes. When you work across borders on matters of life and death, you can't escape conflict. It is the price we must pay for making a difference."

"Life was so much simpler when all I had to worry about was not getting killed," Buffy jokes in resignation.

Debbie's friends could not understand why she seemed so depressed on the day after her big win. It made them feel like kings of the world. (Same with the vampires.) They had faced incredible odds and achieved an unprecedented victory. But Debbie knew the victory was tainted. She did what she had to do, but it wasn't something to brag about. Instead, it left her feeling ashamed. So after school, Debbie went to the hospital and snuck into the intensive care ward, where the Slayers filled an entire room, their dozen beds side-by-side in a long row along the back wall. The sight of Deb terrifies them. Perhaps the Bad Slayer had come to finish them off. It is incredibly scary to lie helpless in a strange town while the few people who can help you are thousands of miles away. But the fear is exponentially increased if you had become accustomed to being invincible and all-powerful. For her part, Deb has trouble making eye contact with the girls who were maimed in her name.

"I, I'm, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry," she tentatively begins before establishing eye contact. "I really am. I didn't want this. I just wanted to be left alone. Maybe you were gonna give me a chance, let me make up my own mind. But maybe you weren't. And if you weren't, no way I could resist. So I kinda had to play it safe. Which, I know, sounds, well, cruel. And it doesn't make you better, or take away the pain I caused you. I know you hate me. I wanted to stay free. That's all I can say. I'm sorry you were put in my way. I never wanted to hurt anyone, certainly not others who are like me. I wish to God you weren't sent here. And I bet you feel the same way by now. So we're in agreement on that, at least. I'm so sorry. I really am." Debbie ducks out before a nurse arrives to see who the unauthorized visitor is. Tabitha and the other Slayers don't know what to think. Debbie sounded sincere. But she also sounded sincere the night before when she was setting them up for a brutal ambush.


	19. Fun with Slayers

A new female vampire who will play a major role later in the story appears on the scene. Gunn tells Angel about Gretchen. And Deb and Dev get even rougher than Spuffy.

Jeta, a tall, dark-complexioned young woman with long black hair and big, frightened doe-y brown eyes walks down an empty street in downtown Hamburg at one o'clock Saturday morning. Dressed in black, her hands are in the pockets of her floor-length black leather jacket, and she glances nervously to either side. She hears screams from up ahead, and shudders. Two teenage girls fly past her, running like the wind. A quartet of male vampires has attacked two women. The Slayer on the right knocks a vampire down with a leaping right kick. The other Slayer pulls a vampire off one of the girls, throws him to the ground, spins round and stakes a vampire who attacked from behind. The fourth vampire punches her in the face, and she punches back. The vampire she threw down double-teams her, but the other Slayer comes to the rescue before returning to her own opponent. The two terrified women run away, taking the first left that leads towards a busy, well-lit street. Suddenly, something unseen grabs both their necks and lifts their feet off the ground. It's Jeta, who no longer needs to pretend to be scared to throw the Slayers off her scent. (You think a Slayer wouldn't make the mistake of assuming every vulnerable-looking teenage girl is a damsel.) Jeta squeezes their throats, preventing them from screaming as their feet dangle, and gazes up at them with her now-yellow eyes.

"Men are clumsy with women," she says in German. "They lack the touch." She twists her right wrist, snapping a woman's neck and dropping her body to the pavement. She lowers the other victim's feet to the ground, clamps her jaw shut with the left hand, and puts her right hand under the victim's shirt, caressing her stomach before lowering her hand further down and grinning wickedly. Jeta pulls the woman's hair back with her left hand and leans in to bite the left side of her neck. After the attack by the male vampires, the running, Jeta's ambush, watching her friend die, and getting molested by this evil monster, the woman's heart is racing a mile a minute. Which makes the vampire's job even easier. She quickly finishes drinking, drops the corpse, and takes a second or two savor the experience. Then she picks up the other woman's body, holds it in front of her, leans against a wall, bites the corpse from behind and furtively drinks, listening all the time to the Slayers, who fight just around the corner and fifty yards away. When it comes to surviving super-powered enemies bent on your extermination, Jeta knows as much as anyone alive or undead. Coexisting with hundreds of Slayers was difficult, but Jeta had been through worse.

The vampire fighting solo is Rudolph, the gang's leader. He's more than a century on, nearly a decade older than Spike, and still displays the martial abilities of the Prussian grenadier he once was. A few nights after marching triumphantly into Paris, and shortly before an armistice was signed, he got bit in a Parisian brothel. The Slayer he's fighting just happens to be French, thus combining his ancient hatred for Gallic women with a new-found loathing for pesky Slayers. The other Slayer has trouble slaying her opponents, who fight in tandem, each one doing a good job of keeping the other one from getting staked. But as Rudolph's fight drags on, Wolfgang begins to worry about their boss losing. Then he'd have to fight a Slayer one-on-one, and end up staked for sure, perishing at the tender vampire age of fifteen, a full decade less than he lived as a human. Deciding that survival is the better part of valor, Wolfgang makes a run for it, leaving the other two vampires to their fate. Fifty yards on, something trips him. He falls on his face and slides several feet across the damp pavement.

"How does it feel to be lonely?," Jeta asks, pouting her full, ruby-red lips. "Myself, I don't like it very much." She helps him up. He smiles at the sight of an immensely attractive female vampire. She pushes him up against the wall, further exciting him. "I prefer to share." She gestures her right arm towards the corpses behind her. He recognizes them right away. Killing the innocents the Slayers thought they had saved – Wolfgang likes her style. Jeta caresses his left cheek with her right hand. He smiles, thrilled by the come-on, though confused as to why this brown-skinned woman is speaking perfect German. She runs her right thumb along her lower lip, picks up some blood, then sticks the thumb in Wolfgang's mouth for his culinary and erotic enjoyment. "I won't let a couple Slayers ruin MY fun." She pulls her right thumb out of his mouth, but more than compensates by momentarily grabbing his crotch with her left hand. It's as easy as seducing a human male. She gets a kick out of that. "One is German."

"French."

"I know. The other is German."

"Turkish," he snorts.

"She speaks like a native."

"Can I have a bite?," he asks about the victims. When she said she liked to share, that was a lie.

"Wouldn't you like something fresh?," she asks with a flirtatious smile as she leans in. By now, the Slayers have killed their opponents, Rudolph getting double-teamed shortly after Wolfgang left Helmut in the lurch. The two remaining vampires can hear these Slayers approaching. Jeta grabs Wolfgang's left hand with her right and takes off towards the more crowded street, hanging a right when she gets there. The railroad station is one block up. Without warning, and seemingly without reason, she lets go of his hand and slaps his face. "What are you, a moron?" He looks at her. She went back to her human face when they started running. Now, he follows suit. Best to blend in when you're trying to disappear into a crowd.

"Sorry. I forgot." The two Slayers find the dead women and soon recognize them. They feel angry and cheated, as Jeta had hoped they would. But also even more motivated to find and kill the rest of the gang. After an exhausting fight, Jeta scavenge kill gave them a second wind. The Slayers head off after the vampire or vampires who undid their good work. When they arrive, their targets stand on the sidewalk, Jeta leaning against the side wall of the station. She pulls Wolfgang close in order to block his face with her own. Nothing like cuddling with a hot woman while running for your life to turn a guy on. Wolfgang felt like some sort of dashing action hero. "This way they won't recognize you," she whispers into his right ear. He smiles and starts kissing the left side of her neck. Hiding from Slayers just keeps getting better and better. But, as with human men who fall victim to a vampire's seductions, he should have known it was too good to be true. Jeta looks to her left, sees the two Slayers eighty feet away, and screams. "You bit me!!!," she shrieks. The two Slayers run towards them.

"You stupid cunt!," he yells. She grabs his jaw with her right hand and squeezes, nearly breaking it. Then she smiles, slowly shaking her head back and forth.

"No. You are the stupid one, little prick." She throws him ten feet to her left, towards the Slayers. They make quick work of him, then look at the vampire girl. She wipes a trickle of blood off her chin with her left thumb, then sticks it in her mouth, grinning down at them with satisfaction. They ran right by Jeta in order to save two women, thereby making it possible for Jeta to kill those women. "You cannot save them all. And you cannot kill US all." The two Slayers lunge for her. She turns into a raven and flies up, perching on the station's roof fifty feet above the ground. The Slayers gasp in amazement. Then they hear sirens. Passers-by had reported a fight, and possibly a murder. The girls flee. The raven flies over to a corner, then turns into a vampire again. From this elevated vantage, Jeta surveys the scene and ponders her situation. These infernal Slayers are everywhere. And always in pairs, making it impossible to take them on alone. She needed help. Too bad the one male vampire she knew would be up to this challenge, the one vampire who could help her defeat her enemies, as he had done before, was dead. Or, if he wasn't, he might as well be.

"Depressed?," Harmony asks Spike. "Buffy problems got you down? You feel sorry for her crippled minions? And the funny thing is, you once wanted to shoot a Slayer. Maybe Devlin does think like you. Except the Slayer he lust puppies after doesn't sexually torture him."

"There was never any torture. What, you think Buffy got out the holy water in bed and threatened to pour it on my - "

"Eww. Eww, Spikey. Gross. I meant torture you sexually by not giving you any. Not that she made torture part of the, eww. Ewww."

"There are no winners here, Harm."

"Yes there are. Devlin twelve. Buffy zero."

"Buffy was stupid to send the Slayer SWAT team. Herman is stupid for going after her. It's a tragedy all round."

"Herman? That's his human name?" Harmony giggles. "I shouldn't laugh. Not every vampire was successful and popular like me before they were sired. Weren't you also a total dweeb?"

"I don't bloody believe it. You're hot for him!"

"Am not! Jealous, Spikey?," she asks with a smile. "He's totally not my type: into Slayers, AND competent. You know I don't go for successful guys." Spike snorts and storms off. Harmony's havin' one helluva fun day. Angel, who is not, calls Gunn.

"Charles, just so you know, it's fine if that Andrew kid rots. You don't have to help him. Just the Slayers."

"The injured Slayers are in no legal danger."

"I thought five of them were foreigners without visas."

"Punishable by deportation back to where they came from. Which is exactly what these girls want."

"I see your point. Just help Buffy."

"You ever think she has connections of her own?"

"I suppose," Angel haltingly responds. "But not in the government."

"She couldn't do what she's doing if she didn't. Or, if she didn't know people who did."

"Rupert Giles?"

"Gretchen Oden. She used to be with the American Foreign Service. Rumor is, she's dating that Giles guy. They've been seen together at a few functions."

"That I didn't need to know." All of a sudden he fears for Gretchen's safety.

"Our Rome office calls her the Valkyrie. She seems to be on a life-long mission to destroy this firm."

"Sounds like someone I'd love to hire."

"Even though she's probably the one who turned Buffy against you?"

"Figures. My life's a series of painful ironies. Did Wolfram & Hart do something to her? I hate to think she's one of those people who fight evil out of vengeance."

"The Firm's never done a thing to her or anyone she knows. I don't know what turned her into a crusader. Maybe she came from a bad neighborhood. Back to business. Gretchen, or Gretch,' as she likes to be called, has cultivated a wide cross-section of the Italian government. That's what's kept the police out of Buffy's compound so far. Naturally, Gretch has friends at the State Department. Unfortunately, Buffy's problems are with the Justice Department."

"Which is your territory."

"It's the territory of people I know. I'm three thousand miles from Washington, Angel."

"But you're trying."

"Of course. We have all weekend. Relax. This isn't demon fighting. Or apocalypse-preventing."

"Which means we can't make our problems go away by killing something."

"OUR problems?"

"Her. Sorry. I meant Buffy's problems."

"Don't mean to sound harsh, but when was the last time she lent you a hand? We do have our own problems to worry about. For instance, Eve's still at large, and we're still out of touch with the Senior Partners."

"Good point. Why haven't they taken care of both situations? All this time with no one keeping tabs on me and trying to betray me. I'm almost beginning to feel abandoned," Angel jokes.

"Crazy thought: Would Eve ever try to hook up with Devlin? Kid's gonna have quite a rep after what he pulled off last night."

"I always figured her for a one vampire girl," Angel quips.

Debbie comes home around five. Devlin, who's sitting on the couch, looks to his right and sees her. "You're late," he says like a bored house husband. "Something going on I don't know about?," he asks with a smirk.

"Just hanging with my friends."

"Next time remember to call," he adds in mock disappointment. She laughs, leans down and kisses him. Dev grabs her and pulls her down onto his lap. They wrestle for a little while on the couch. Deb eventually gets on top, pushing his face into the cushions and twisting his right arm behind his back. "Okay. Okay! You win." She lets go. He sits up and rubs his sore arm. "But only because I let you." She pounces on top of him. He grabs her arms. They continue going at it. "The police called," he reports. Deb stops. Dev sits up. "It's good news. They don't need you to testify against Andrew."

"Why? Did he confess? No, wait. He couldn't. He wasn't guilty."

"We're all guilty of something. Though usually not Class B felonies. Andrew Wells was a wanted fugitive up north. Turns out he took part in a botched armed robbery back in Sunnydale."

"No way!"

"The D.A. up in Santa Barbara is very grateful to you."

"Is there a reward?"

"No dice." Debbie feigns disappointment. That would be a little too much good luck. "But if you're ever up there and need a favor - "

"How far are you planning on travelling to look for vampires to kill?"

"I didn't mean it as a proposal."

"At this rate, six months from now I'll be patrolling in San Francisco."

"Then the vampires would come back down here to exploit your absence."

"Oh, thank God!" She laughs. "Not that I want northerners to get bit, but I'm only one Slayer. There's a limit to how much ground I can cover." Devlin grabs Deb and pulls her close.

"There's about thirty million people in this state. You look out for ten million of them. Spike, and Angel, look out for ten million more. And the other ten million will have to find someone else to look out for them."

"Damn right. I can't be everyone's super hero," Debbie jokes.

"Just mine."

She rolls her eyes. "God, that is so cheesy."

"No. Me singing you a song would be cheesy. That was heartfelt."

"It's okay. We've become lame. But I've stopped caring."

"Lame!? After last night?"

"I like this night better. When we stay home and no one tries to kill or kidnap us."

"Hold on, Deb. What about the party?"

"We can have more fun alone."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Let's rent some videos. Curl up on the couch. Eat cookie dough ice cream." That wasn't what Devlin had in mind.

"Or we could train." If he wasn't getting any lovin', at least he could get some exercise.

"More work? I wanna relax."

"There's still a lot of room for improvement."

"Please. It's been, like, three weeks since a vamp even hurt me. I'm kicking ass like never before."

"You still can't kick my ass."

"Wanna bet?" Deb stands up. So does Devlin.

"Until you're good enough to kill me, you can't rest on your laurels."

"Well then. It's time I took care of that." She walks over to the weapons chest and takes out a stake. "What should we rent?," she casually asks, blithely planning ahead. "I was thinking maybe Bend it Like Beckham'?"

"You're supposed to use the blunted stake when we're training."

"Training? You said you wanted me to kill you." Deb leaps across the room, takes Dev down and gets on top. She drives the stake down with enough force to actually kill him, but Dev grabs it with both hands when the point is two inches above his heart. This opens up his face, and Debbie lands three quick left punches to his right eye, nose and mouth.

"Okay then. If that's how ya wanna play it." Dev goes bumpy.

"I see you've been flossing," Debbie quips before throwing a left jab for his mouth. Dev lifts his head up, and she hits him in the forehead. He then throws her to his left. They both stand up. Dev blocks a left hook kick. When Debbie tries a right hook, he grabs her right forearm and throws her through the open door into the training room behind the living room. He enters.

"Never lead against a good opponent," he explains.

"Since when were you one of those?" He charges in. She throws him into the wall. The room's fifteen by fifteen feet, with mats on the floor and along the walls. This had once been Debbie's parents' room. Then it was her Aunt's and Uncle's room. After she kicked them out, and took Devlin in, he redecorated. Like most single-story homes in the area, it lacks a basement, and Dev thought they needed somewhere indoors to train. Deb throws a left hook kick for Devlin's chest. He leaps back, climbs onto the wall, then crawls up onto the ceiling until he's directly above the Slayer. "Like that would ever happen in a real fight. And just so you know, the whole Fly thing is really revolting." He drops his legs down, wraps them around her neck and rolls to the ground, flipping her over. He gets up before she does and lands a right kick to her face. "Ow! That almost really hurt." As she rises to her feet, Dev catches Debbie with a right roundhouse kick to the nose. "Hey!! I thought we were practicing." He connects with a straight left kick to her chin, causing her neck to whip back. "Well if that's how you wanna play it." She hops in the air and lands a straight right kick to his nose, following this up with a left kick to his groin.

"Beyond the pale," he yelps as he puts his hands to his crotch. "There are certain lines you don't - " While his upper body is exposed, Debbie lands two left jabs, a right hook and a left uppercut to his face. Brandishing a the stake in her right hand, Deb goes for the kill. Devlin grabs the stake with his left hand and throws Debbie down to his left. "I wasn't even close to ready."

"Worth a shot." Devlin corners her, landing a right hook to her ribs and a left uppercut to her stomach. When she tries a straight right kick, he backs away, then quickly counter-attacks with a swift right kick to her face that sends the back of her head slamming into the wall. Dev grabs her arms and leans in to bite her neck. She head-butts him in the nose, then lands a left cross to his mouth. Devlin counters with a right hook to her left eye. Debbie retaliates with a left cross to his right eye. Then she grabs his hair and slams his face into the wall. Dev gets her away with a right elbow to her mouth and a right backhanded slap to her nose. They circle each other in the center of the room.

"You timed the head-butt really well," he compliments. "You used to try it too early. Then I could back my head away, miss it, and lean in again to bite you."

"Like how you time my stake thrusts." He attacks and lands a left hook. She drives him back with a left uppercut. He blocks her right hook kick.

"Most vamps grab too early, when you still got plenty of bend in the elbow, and can put your other hand behind it to drive the lumber home." She lands a left kick to his stomach. He responds with a left roundhouse to her chest, sending her into the wall. When he rushes in, she catches Dev with a left jab to the nose and a right hook to the jaw. He answers with a left kick to her chin. When he goes for a right hook kick, she sweeps his left leg and kicks him in the spine as he stands up.

"You didn't get greedy, give me a chance to sweep you," he comments approvingly about her restraint when he was down.

"Stop analyzing." She kicks him in the stomach. He grabs her arms and throws her into the wall behind him so her body hits it parallel to the floor, about four feet up. But, as she falls to the ground, Deb puts her hands out to block his right hook kick to her sternum. Dev's impressed. Debbie notices. "Okay, you can analyze that," she offers as she stands up. Deb blocks Dev's left hook kick for her head, then drops the stake from her right hand.

"Surrendering so soon?," he asks with a smile.

"You wish," she replies before landing a leaping right kick to his chest, sending his back slamming into the opposite wall. "Ya got the whole elbows out, hands in' defense, just waiting to catch it, so there's no point even trying to dust you 'till I've beaten you down and knocked you out."

"I win by not losing. You'll tire first."

"Wanna bet?" She lands a right roundhouse kick to his head.

"I'm not the one sucking wind." He knocks the Slayer down with the back of his right hand. As Debbie stands up, she picks up the stake with her right hand.

"Go for it, tiger," she dares, twirling the stake between her thumb and index fingers. Devlin fakes left, towards the stake, as if planning to disarm her, then attacks right, grabbing her left wrist with his left hand and getting behind Debbie before she can stake him. Deb counters by spinning round so that, while Dev had her left arm behind her back one moment, she has her stake behind his the next. He reaches his right arm back and grabs the stake, ripping it from Debbie's grasp and causing it to fall back to the floor. Debbie puts her left hand hand under his chin and her right hand on top of his head, as if trying to snap his neck. Devlin reaches both arms back, grabs Debbie's head and flips her forward and to the ground. She bounds to her feet, hitting Dev's face with a unexpectedly swift left reverse kick. She hears Dev's back slam into the wall. As Debbie turns around, Devlin leaps at her, the exhausted vampire pouncing on top of the tired Slayer. He puts his hands around her neck and tries to strangle Debbie. She digs her fingernails into his wrists and forearms, drawing some blood and causing enough pain to make him stop. Then he struggles to pin her shoulders down so he can lean in to bite her. While Debbie works to keep her arms free, she wraps her legs around his torso, pulling it down towards her.

"What's the point of that?," he asks. Debbie grabs his t-shirt with her right hand, pulls his head down and kisses him.

"Let's call it a draw," she suggests. Dev smiles and returns to his human face.

"The kind where everybody wins." She wraps her arms around him and they kiss some more. Then she rolls on top and sits up. Devlin looks to his left and sees the stake on the ground, less than two feet from Debbie's right knee. He sweeps his left leg under her knee and kick the stake into the corner. Deb looks confused. "So that's how you planned to beat me."

"What?" He points to the stake. "Not everything's a goddam stratagem," Deb declares as she takes off her shirt.

"It better not be," Dev jokes as he stands up and drives Debbie's back into the wall as they lock lips.

"I'm definitely a one vampire Slayer," Debbie says in between moans as Devlin kisses her neck. She rips his black t-shirt in half, puts her hands on his chest and pushes him across the room into the opposite wall.

"That would make you the first," Devlin jokes between smooches. She undoes his pants and wraps her legs around his back. Dev's jaw trembles as he gazes up into her eyes. "Lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky me."

NEXT: A werewolf attacks a Slayer, bringing together Deb, Dev, Angel, Nina and Oz. And Angel was hoping to spend a quiet night alone with Nina, away from his work-related problems.


	20. Vampires, Werewolves and Slayers Unite

Dawn begins to assemble a profile of Devlin, while Buffy and Giles trade theories about Angel. Back in California, Debbie is attacked by a werewolf, even though there is no full moon.

On Saturday afternoon, Dawn sits in the corner of the training room, looking over faxes of the x-rays Giles received from California. Buffy's at the other end of the room, taking out her frustration on a punching bag. Giles stands in the middle of the room, talking on the phone. "Andrew's loss would be regretted, but our first concern is the Slayers. Do what you must to get them home, and to get us back in business." He hangs up. "I have good news, Buffy. It looks as if the Justice Department is beginning to recognize that these charges are trumped up. Gretch is confident that she can dispose of the matter by Monday."

"And Dana?"

"That is a separate matter. We've conceded that we have her. Whether she must be returned is a state, not a federal, matter."

"I won't let them send her back to an institution."

"I get the feeling someone else would assume custody."

Buffy stops punching and steps away from the bag. "No. They can't."

"We did."

"Perfect. Evil Incorporated uses the government to get their dirty hands on a Slayer."

"It bolsters my theory about who is behind this. Wolfram & Hart weren't just avenging their defeat. They are seeking to undo it."

"And maiming a lot of innocent girls in the process."

"I think I see a pattern," Dawn announces. "Tabitha, Naomi, Matty and Dominique all had an ankle broken. They were in Sunnydale. They were the only ones from Sunnydale."

"Is this going somewhere?," Buffy asks dismissively.

"It happened after they were down. You can't shoot somebody in the ankle if they're standing up and you're right in front of them. These are gratuitous injuries."

"And all the others were necessary?," Buffy asks, annoyed and appalled.

"Yes. From the shooter's point of view. But the ankle shots, those were for another reason."

"Sadism?," Buffy suggests.

"Then why only these four?"

"Several girls were shot as they tried to stand up," Giles points out.

"Tabitha and Naomi had already been shot in the kneecaps. No chance they were getting up." Giles and Buffy are rather unnerved by Dawn's eager morbidity.

"Enlighten me then," Buffy sighs in frustration. "Why do you think they did it?"

"To send a message. Do the most damage to the most experienced Slayers. But that gave away an important clue. Whoever did this knew which girls had been with you in Sunnydale. He knew them by sight."

"You think the lead vampire's from Sunnydale?," Giles asks.

"Then I would have killed him a long time ago," Buffy states.

"Most likely," Dawn concurs. "Or, he knows someone who was in Sunnydale. Maybe someone you also know. It doesn't have to be a vampire. It could be a human. Or, they could have been human back then."

"Tabitha's description of the lead vampire made him sound rather un-extraordinary," Giles recalls. "He doesn't match any of the vampires we have on file." Since Dawn presented her theory, Buffy's looked nervous. "Something on your mind?"

"Angel told me that the vampire and the Slayer are," a long, anguished pause, "boyfriend and girlfriend." Rupert's and Dawn's jaws drop.

"Oh my God," Dawn reacts. "That's horrible. He's evil. He's soulless. And perfectly capable of hurting people," she quickly adds so as not to offend Buffy. Giles is positively mortified. Buffy's set an alarming precedent. Of course, Giles doesn't want to say that, for fear of hurting her feelings.

"Perhaps we're dealing with an emulator, or a, wannabe, as some would say."

"Which one does he wanna be?," Dawn asks impertinently. Buffy gives her an angry look.

"Vampires falling for Slayers is quite common," Giles comments to take the blame off Buffy. "Slayers reciprocating is less common, though by no means unheard off." Buffy's eyes bug out. "Maybe once or twice in a century. This Deborah girl fits that archetype. Buffy's relationships with Angel and, er, Spike, were completely different and, so far as I know, unprecedented. They had souls. They endeavored to do good. You loved Angel because he was not evil. If Debbie loves this vampire, it's in spite of the fact that he is evil. That is a completely different thing."

"Umm, Giles, actually, Angel said she thinks he's good, and that he's stopped killing. That's why Angel said he didn't try to stake the kid."

"Wow. He really is emulating," Dawn declares.

"Could he be trying to impress Angel, in order to become part of his firm?," Giles wonders.

"Except that he didn't impress Angel. From the sound of it, he made Angel wanna hurl."

"I'm not arguing that they are in league," Giles clarifies. "But it's a large company. There are plenty of back channels he could use without catching the attention of the man in charge."

"Angel's not evil. He would never do anything to hurt a Slayer. But he's a dupe. Sure, he can do good with his fancy new office and powerful connections. But all the while, there's all this evil swirling around him he can't stop."

Deb and Dev fall to the floor with a thud. He gazes to his left at the Slayer, who's covered in sweat and catching her breath. "And you said we were starting to get boring," he says before putting his arms around her. Deb rolls on top of Dev.

"Nothing a little sex and violence can't liven up. Especially when they're both done at the same time." Dev licks sweat off her right shoulder. "Thirsty?"

"I love the way you taste. But, now that you mention it," he licks the blood from a gash under her right eye, then kisses her upper lip, taking in some of the blood that had flowed out of her nose.

"Like my own pet leach," she quips before rolling off him. "There's a fine line between fun kinky gross and just-plain-gross gross."

"Can't help it. It's my nature." Dev goes bumpy, rolls on top of Deb and tries to bite her neck. She screams and pushes him off, then laughs. "So that's the good kind?," he asks.

"Because you'd never actually bite me."

"Can't say the same for you," he replies with a smirk. She slaps his chest.

"That is SO not the same."

"Why are you so certain I'd never bite you?," Devlin asks with a wicked twinkle in his eye.

"You love me."

"Madly. But what if I had to? What if was so drained from my exertions that I needed a little boost just to give me the strength to stand up?"

"I'd carry you." Debbie stands up, grabs Devlin's right arm and pulls him to his feet. They stand there in silence for a few seconds, happily but awkwardly noticing each other's nakedness. "This is why I fought," she whispers tentatively while running the fingers of her right hand down Dev's chest.

"I doubt you could have this much fun with Buffy," he jokes while slowly moving his left knuckles down the small of her back. Debbie looks offended and pushes Dev's chest with both hands, driving him six feet back into the wall. He ends up sitting on the ground, looking dumbfounded.

"I meant love! Not just sex, dumbass," she explains. Dev stands back up.

"You've learned to separate the two?," he asks with raised eyebrows.

"And I thought you were too drained' to stand up." She pushes him out of the room.

"Just don't ask me to do any fighting tonight." She tosses his clothes out into the living room and stays in the training room to put hers on. Devlin puts his pants on and opens the window shades. "It's dark! How long were we in there?"

"Dunno. Forgot to start my stop watch," Debbie jokes before entering the living room and looking at the clock. "It is late. Wanna go to that party?"

"What about our quiet, cozy night at home?"

"We chucked the quiet part a few hours ago." They both smile and stare at each other. Which reminds Dev of something.

"Deb, you're kinda banged-up."

"Not as bad as you."

"What do we say?"

"Tell them we ran into a couple demons on the way."

"And the people who don't know what we are? They'll think I beat you up."

"You wish," Debbie scoffs.

"You know what I mean."

"Maybe they'll think I beat you up."

"Whatever you want, love. Just let me have a couple glasses of blood first." Deb touches her hair and realizes it's soaking wet. She runs into the bathroom.

"No problem. I need a shower. I look like crap."

"Not possible," Dev replies from the kitchen. "So is everyone going?"

Harmony is at Paul, Luiz and Sidney's apartment. She's wearing a short pink dress and red high heels. "Am I early?," she asks nervously.

"Probably," Sid responds. "You know how these parties are: get there after everyone else has arrived but before the cops show up."

"Sorry I forgot. It feels like it's been forever since I was in high school."

"Was Spike your sire?"

Harmony gasps. "I wish! He was some nobody. Didn't even tell me his name."

"But you knew Spike in Sunnydale?"

"Only after I was sired. We dated. He was my first vampire boyfriend."

Sidney smiles. "Great way to start."

"Oh God. Oh God! You have a crush on him."

"No denying he's a major league hottie. Even with the soul. It's such a shame he got that stupid chip."

"Served him right." Sidney looks shocked. "He tried to stake me."

"So not cool."

"Tell me about it. He only had one woman on his mind, and it wasn't me."

"What is it with guys and Slayers?" Sidney chuckles. "We sure showed her last night."

"How cool was it? I totally wish I could've been there."

"You ever play Duckhunt'? Point, click, girl goes down. And they were in such pain!" Harmony smiles. "Only drag was, Dev wouldn't let us have a free sample."

"Twelve Slayers, and not even a taste?"

"I know! By Mister Self Control wanted it to look like a human hit."

"No human blood: sounds like my boss."

"Small price to pay."

"Are we talking about me, or you?"

"Girl's gotta make a few sacrifices to earn a living."

"Again, which one of us are you talking about?," Harmony asks. They both laugh. "People think it's glamorous. Nobody understands how lonely we get."

"Feeding makes it so hard to make friends."

"I know!," Harmony agrees, overjoyed to have met someone who understands. "Always needing to move so people don't find you out."

"Never having enough time to make friends."

"You can only go out at night."

"And even then, if you meet someone nice, you're too busy looking for the next meal to make a connection."

"And the guys are SO gross!"

"Like the ones who sired us."

"What's your story?"

"About six years ago, when I was a Freshman at Duke, I camped out with my roommates for basketball tickets. When I woke up, they were dead, and I was in some sewer dungeon with this cretin who wanted me to be his love slave. Whoever gave people the idea that male vampires are cool and sexy was dirty, rotten liar."

"There are some," Harmony concedes with a small half-smile.

"But they're already taken. Every last one."

"And even if they're not, they're still caught up on the girl they lost, or the one they wanna get."

"You ever tried to make one?"

"A few cute guys I went to high school with. Totally backfired."

"It's like, ninety percent of guys get worse when they turn, nine percent stay the same, and one percent get better."

"Are Paul and Luiz part of that one percent?," Harmony asks.

"I don't know what they were like as humans. But they're probably part of the nine percent. Dev, he's definitely in that top group."

"But he doesn't look it. That's the weird thing. Spike and Angel, you can tell the moment you meet them. But when I met Devlin, he did nothing for me. The guy seemed so . . . average."

"Ya gotta see him in action to understand."

"Or, if the action's good enough, just hear about it."

"The Slayer thing was the bomb! Getting the cops to do our work for us was a goddam stroke of genius."

"Tell me the truth: did it turn you on?"

"I'm completely NOT hot for Dev. He's totally not my type. But last night, if he asked, I probably woulda gone down on him. The way he humiliated all those Slayers was the dopest I've ever seen."

"Today, Buffy called Angel, and I was the one who answered," Harmony reveals. As she hoped, Sidney looks delighted and eager for details.

At half past nine, Devlin and Debbie leave her home and walk down to the party. He's wearing black converse sneakers, dark blue jeans, a black tank top and light blue silk shirt, with a gold chain around his neck. She wears tight black jeans, an olive-green sleeveless blouse, a short, shiny black leather jacket, and a small silver cross. Suddenly, Dev stops two-thirds of the way down their driveway and puts his right hand on Deb's stomach to hold her back. "Something's watching us."

"Slayer?," she asks, frightened. He shakes his head.

"Doubtful," he whispers. "Slayers don't usually growl and drool." He carefully looks around, paying special attention to the rows of shrubbery across the street. The eavesdropper has cladestinely moved into the yard to the right of Debbie's, and hides behind a car in the driveway. It leaps over the car and charges across the lawn. Deb and Dev spot the shadowy figure in the darkness when it's thirty feet away and closing fast. She screams and runs for her front door. The attacker changes course to follow her. Dev races to put himself in its path. "No Deb! It doesn't have to be invited in." The attacker leaps at Devlin, who goes bumpy and head-butts the beast, which then stands on its hind legs and growls. Dev growls back.

"That's the furriest damn demon I've ever seen," Debbie exclaims.

"It's a werewolf," Devlin declares before leaping at the animal and trying to bite it in the throat. Dev gets on top, but the wolf pushes him aside and races on all fours for Debbie. Devlin gives chase and grabs its tale, forcing the beast to turn around and take a swat at the vampire, who steps back out of the way. He lands a right roundhouse kick to the wolf's head, causing it to turn around and attack Debbie, who shrieks as she grabs its ears and pushes the animal to her left to avoid mauling. Devlin leaps over and drives his right foot into the werewolf's spine. Deb kicks its underbelly with her right foot, causing it to roll over twice before standing up on its hind legs. Dev stands to his girlfriend's right. The two of them size up the attacker.

"So werewolves are real. And they're this," Debbie offers. "How do we take it down?"

"All my bullets are lead." Then Devlin smiles. "Hold it back for ten seconds, love. That's all I need."

"Okay," she gulps.

"I'll be right back." He rushes inside.

"He's the one who gets to run. That's no fair." The wolf charges on all fours. Debbie turns and runs towards the porch. She leaps up, grabs hold of the gutter and swings her body onto the roof of the one-story house. She stands up, looks down, and breathes a sigh of relief when it becomes clear the werewolf can't join her. "This should buy me ten seconds." The werewolf turns around, runs towards the tree in Debbie's front yard and climbs up with the speed and agility of a bear. "Or, maybe not." The wolf balances itself on a heavy branch that leads towards the roof. Debbie walks rightwards, away from where the beast is trying to land on the roof. Just then, Devlin races out the front door, brandishing the tranquilizer rifle he stole from Arthur and Andrew. "It's in the tree!," Debbie yells when she sees him. He aims, but the animal grabs the branch with both hands, lets its feet down and swings onto the roof like a monkey. It lands twenty feet from Deb and immediately rushes her. She lets it get within five feet before leaping down to the grass and running towards the street. Dev backs up, staying ten feet in front of the Slayer and aiming the rifle, waiting for a good shot. If he misses, the wolf will be on top of both of them before he can reload. The werewolf spots its prey and leaps down to the driveway. Dev hits it in the chest from twenty feet away, and it gets within ten feet of him before falling down. Debbie puts her left arm around his shoulder as she catches her breath.

"This is what happens when I try to have a social life," she jokes.

"Maybe we should have stayed home after all. It is that time of the month." Devlin looks up at the sky. "No it's not." The moon is three-quarters full. "What the hell?" He walks over to the beast.

"So it's not a werewolf? Just some wolfish demon?"

"I don't know. The legs are too long. A demon would be better-proportioned. Less awkward. We'd both be dead if it wasn't so clumsy." He figures out how to reload, cocks the weapon and puts a dart in the animal's spine. The first shot just made it groggy. This one puts it into peaceful unconsciousness. "I need your crucifix."

"For what?"

"It's silver."

"So?" Debbie looks appalled. "You're gonna kill it! No. No!"

"I only had two darts. What do we do when it wakes up?"

"Can't we take it somewhere?"

"You mean like the zoo?"

"It's a person. You are not killing a person. Especially not with this. You gave me this crucifix!"

"It was a person."

"He'll change back in the morning."

"During the full moon. He's not supposed to be a wolf now. This guy broke the number one rule. What makes you think he won't break rule number two?"

"We have to give him a chance to turn back."

"Not if it risks your life. Or the life of anyone else around here. I don't know how long the nap juice will last. But if he's still an animal when he comes to, we're in deep trouble."

"How do people usually handle this?"

"You get bit, you lock yourself up three nights a month. If you don't, sooner or later someone will kill you."

"Like in An American Werewolf in London'?"

"Except the part about the guy becoming a sex machine after getting bit."

"How many werewolves have you known?"

"None well. But I can smell them even when they're human. We never bite their kind."

"It's like vampire repellant?"

"They're already sharing their body with a demon, so from our point of view they're spoken for. And I've heard their blood tastes wicked awful."

"Maybe we could get a leash? I could yank it to keep it under control."

"That'll only stop it from attacking other people. You'd still be in danger."

"I got it! Angel."

"And he would do us this big favor, why?"

"He can keep this thing locked up."

"As a pet? Or an attack dog he could sick on his enemies?"

"Angel would never do that."

"But his employer would. Just cause he's technically in charge doesn't mean he can change the corporate culture. The company's still full of evil-doers."

"But Angel's not one of them."

"He has to delegate. You think he's gonna personally pick up the wolf and care for him? The guy's too busy to care about a single mutant werewolf."

"Something on your mind?," Nina asks Angel as they have a romantic candlelit dinner in an expensive French restaurant. "Is it Buffy?"

"No. Yes. But not in that way."

"In what way then?"

"She's become the target of an international criminal investigation. It's a huge misunderstanding. But it's still huge. Gunn says that when John Ashcroft sets his sights on you - "

"Attorney General Ashcroft? What the hell is she involved in? Does he think you're ex-girlfriend's a terrorist?"

"No. As far as I know. But he thinks she's something nearly as bad. Her phone's bugged. She's been put under virtual house arrest."

"Sounds Kafka-esque."

"You hate to see a friend in that kind of predicament."

"I hate to see anyone in that kind of predicament."

"So, if I seem a little distracted - "

"I'll cut you some slack. Oz told me she had run-ins with the cops back in Sunnydale. But nothing on this scale."

"When did Oz tell you this?," Angel asks suspiciously.

"Today. At lunch."

"I thought you had classes?"

"He met me at the student center."

"Sounds like you two are getting pretty chummy."

Deb and Dev pick up the werewolf and place the surprisingly heavy beast into the trunk of Devlin's car. "I say we steal a boat and take it three or four miles out. If it turns human in the morning, the guy can motor it back to shore. If not, the beast is stuck. They can probably swim a mile, maybe two, at most."

"And when the owners notice their boat's gone?"

"We bring along the dingy, put it in that, and dock the actual boat before sunrise."

"Say someone sails by, and the werewolf leaps at them and eats them?"

"I'm also open to driving it out into the desert."

"That does it. I'm calling Angel." Debbie runs back into her house to get her cell phone and find Angel's business card. Dev puts his hands on his hips, looks up at the moon and sighs. Then he looks at the werewolf and pets it.

"You sure picked the right girl to attack. If Debbie didn't have a heart of gold, yours would be full of silver by now. But there are other ways. I could rip your throat out. Or bite through your spine," he adds maliciously while running his right hand down its backbone. "Yes sir. You're one lucky werewolf." Devlin backs up, leaves the trunk door open and waits for Debbie. She rushes back to make sure it's still sleeping soundly. "What if it wakes up before he gets here?"

"We have a baseball bat. And a sledgehammer. We'll just beat him back into unconsciousness. I thought you said one of those darts would put me out for twenty hours?"

"This thing weighs a lot more than you."

"But I'm a Slayer. My strength is several times what my weight says it should be. Plus, he got a double dose." The werewolf opens its eyes. Deb and Dev back up, frightened. But instead of attacking, the wolf turns into a man in his early thirties, who lies curled up in the fetal position, shaking and sweating. "Are you glad you didn't kill him now?" Devlin picks the man up, carries him out of the trunk and places him on the grass.

"I think he's in shock."

"I know I'd be."

"Get a blanket."

"You get a blanket. I'm gonna call Angel."

"Good. I'd rather have this potential death on his hands," Devlin confesses before heading inside. Debbie dials Angel's cell and nervously watches the naked man as she waits for her call to go through.

"It's nice having a werewolf friend who understands what it's like," Nina explains.

"So he's just a friend."

"Angel! I can't believe this. I've never seen you so insecure."

"I'm glad you have Oz. He's a great guy. Who in no way makes me feel insecure. But Nina, how would you feel if a had a lady friend who was a vampire with a soul?"

"That's ridiculous. You're the only one." She knows Spike's a vampire, but assumes he doesn't have a soul, like Harmony.

Angel smiles. "If you say so." His phone rings. "I probably should answer this. It could be something important."

"Angel? It's Debbie."

"Debbie! Great to hear from you."

"Who's Debbie?," a suspicious Nina wonders.

"I was attacked by a werewolf."

"What? Tonight? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Thanks to Dev. He shot it with two tranquilizer darts. But then it turned human. The guy's convulsing. I think he needs to go to a hospital or something."

"Where are you?"

"My house."

"Stay right there. I'm on my way." Angel stands up. "We have to go."

"We? Or you?"

"We. There was a werewolf attack."

"But it's not even - "

"I know." Nina looks horrified.

"Oz? Oh no." She knows he can turn when it's not the full moon.

"I don't know if it's him. I should have asked."

"How would they know?"

"The werewolf changed back to being human." Something Oz also has done shortly after attacks. "I'll call back and get a description."

"No. I'll call him." A very worried Nina grabs Angel's phone and dials his number. "Oz! Oh, thank God."

"Thanks. But, why?"

"Where are you?"

"Home. Well, not exactly. You know the place. This may sound rude, but why so eager to hear me?"

"I'm not sure."

"Interesting."

"Can you hold for a second?"

"If need be, I could probably hold for longer."

"Angel, who's Debbie?"

"It's not what you think."

"Is Debbie a Vampire Slayer?"

"Okay, it is what you think. But we're just friends. She's seventeen."

"So was Buffy."

"Actually, Buffy was sixteen when she met me. Never mind. Look, I don't have a thing for Slayers in general."

"And the werewolf attacked her?"

"And she tranquilized it," Angel replies wishfully, omitting Devlin's participation. Nina gets back on with Oz.

"The werewolf tried to kill Angel's Slayer friend."

"Faith's in town?" Nina looks at Angel.

"Who is Faith!?

"She has nothing to do with this!"

"No Oz. Angel called her Debbie."

"A new Slayer. Interesting. She live in LA?"

"Where's this Debbie girl from?"

"Laguna Hills."

"In Orange County? That's a little out of your way, isn't it Angel?"

"Nina. Nina?"

"Sorry Oz."

"He's here."

"Who?"

"The man who's after me. Werewolves go for easy kills. If this one attacked a Slayer, well, that sounds like a hit. Which is what he makes them do."

"You're right. We're both in danger."

"Nina, I need my phone back. A man's life is at stake."

"More than one. Oz, wait there. We'll pick you up in, maybe twenty minutes tops." She hangs up. Oz sits back down on the couch and starts sweating. This was not good.

"Why did you tell him that?"

"Because he's in danger. And so am I."


	21. Trusting Your Enemies

Oz has problems trusting Spike. Everyone but Spike has problems trusting Devlin. And, to make matters worse, he rips Spike for his incompetence when trying to kill Buffy. At the W&H lab, a doctor explains what happened to the werewolf, and what could happen to Nina in the not-so-distant future.

Oz hear several loud knocks at the door, and gets up to answer it. To his surprise, it's Spike. "Can I come in?"

Oz takes a while to respond. "Umm, negative?"

"I'm here to protect you."

"This would be the ironic phase of the game."

Spike sighs with frustration. "Can the laconics, Oswald. Way I heard it, someone's out to kill you. You can tell me to Piss Off' and take your chances, or you can be a good little doggie and let me do my job."

"So, either way, I'm taking my chances."

"Bloody hell! What did I ever do to you?"

"Besides call me Oswald? There was that time you kidnapped my girlfriend and tried to kill her."

"You're mixing events. I kidnapped her to make her perform a spell, meaning I had no plan to kill her that night. About a year later, when she wus at university, I did try to kill her – or sire her, I can't remember which. Probably sire. I wus looking for a new girlfriend, and she could look quite fetching in that fuzzy pink number."

"This isn't improving your chances of getting invited in."

"But I had that bloody chip in my brain, so I couldn't bite Red. She was sorta hurt. Thought it was her fault, on account of you leaving her. What a huge blow to her self-esteem. I'm not sure if she had considered going sappho yet. Probably not. She was very keen on hearing me say that I found her desirable."

"I'm going to check the fridge, see if there's any holy water. Just in case you can't take a hint."

"What do I need – a letter of bloody recommendation from Buffy?"

"Whatever you two had, I'd rather it not be put into print."

"If I were evil, what are the chances I'd waste my time killing you? No offense. But there's millions of other necks I'd rather bite in this town."

"Point taken. I'll give you this: your fashion sense is consistent. Shouldn't switching sides be an occasion for change of uniform?"

"I tried that. Bright colors. Earth tones. None of it worked. Anyway, Buffy seemed to prefer the Classic Spike Look."

"One request: don't mention Buffy and yourself in the same sentence. Or yourself and anyone else I know in the same sentence. That will make this a lot easier."

"Bloody hell," Spike sighs. "Now let me in."

"Fine. Enter." Spike steps forward but is stopped cold at the threshold. "What? Not enough feeling?"

"I don't get it. This is your place?"

"Not exactly. I'm staying with a friend. He's out right now. Which is good for him, if people actually are trying to kidnap or kill me."

"Come with me."

"Hide in plain sight. How clever, in a not so clever sort of way."

"Angel should be here to pick you up in a few."

"You'd really risk your sort-of-life to protect me?"

"I'd risk my life to stave of boredom."

Oz shrugs. "Wouldn't want to keep Angel waiting." He walks out into the hall and closes the door behind him. Spike grabs his right wrist and drags him down the stairs like a child. "The switching of sides: was that because you were tired of losing?"

"We're punting the problem to Angel," Devlin assumes.

"No Dev. He's helping us out."

"By taking this guy off our hands."

"And by finding whoever sicked him on me."

"He thinks this was a hit?"

"Angel's been investigating a man who's using werewolves as assassins."

"Oh. So he's not really helping us. We're solving his problem for him!"

"We're all on the same side."

"So's Buffy. You bout slay vampires. But look what happened last night. There's no sides, Deb. Just loyalties. Allies you're willing to give your life for, and everyone else."

"Is that all we are? Allies?"

"Yes." Debbie looks stunned. "At first. That's where we started from."

"We started with fear and suspicion."

"No, you started with fear and suspicion. I started with love."

"Liar."

"Cynic." Debbie walks up to Devlin and puts her arms around his shoulders.

"Would a cynic have invited you in? Let alone share her bed - " Dev pushes Deb back and stands in front to protect her as he hears a vehicle zooming towards them. A black van slams on the brakes and pulls into her driveway. Two men with a stretcher get out, along with a gun-toting commando clad in black.

"Is this the werewolf?"

"Yes," Debbie nervously responds. "W-w-we haven't moved him. Where's Angel?"

"He'll be here shortly."

"How do I know you're, umm, with him?" The commando and Devlin stare at each other. It's clear from the man's expression that he wants to bash the vampire's head in. Presumably because he saw the security tape of Devlin killing two W&H commandos and maiming several others in the firm's parking garage only four days earlier.

"I know," Dev assures her. "Let them have him." The former werewolf is placed on the stretcher and taken into the van. The security guard slowly backs away, keeping his eyes on Devlin. He steps in, the side door is pulled shut, and the vehicle races off. Debbie puts her right arm around her boyfriend's waist.

"Those guys give me the creeps."

"Survival makes for strange bedfellows."

Angel drives his convertible, with Nina riding shotgun, Spike behind Nina and Oz behind Angel. "What happened to the Viper?," Spike asks.

"This has better leg room."

Oz tries to make sense of the situation. "Your enemy hired you to be its boss. They're evil, but you're not, but Buffy may think you are. We're going to see a Slayer you thought was bad, but you now think is good, even though you still think her boyfriend's bad. And we're all trying to find the evil guy who's wants to capture me and tried to kill her."

"And the government and this new vampire both think Buffy's evil, which is why they're investigating her and he winged her Slayers," Nina adds.

"But if this new vampire's evil, and Buffy's his enemy, doesn't that mean he thinks Buffy's good?," Oz asks.

"Devlin doesn't think of himself as evil," Spike points out.

"Even though he is," Angel states.

"Then why didn't he kill all those Slayers?"

"But he is soulless," Nina notes. "We can all agree on that."

"And why is Buffy turning criminals into Watchers?," Oz asks.

"You mean Andrew," Spike responds.

"No. Tucker's brother."

"One and the same."

"Okay."

"He can't be an ex-con," Angel argues. "He hasn't been convicted of anything yet."

"But he was involved in this robbery."

"Yes," Spike replies.

"And he tried to kill Buffy."

"Yes."

"And he did kill Jonathan."

"Yes."

"After which Buffy decided to make him part of the team."

"Sort of."

"I've been away too long. Or, maybe I haven't been away long enough."

Twenty minutes later, Angel pulls into Debbie's driveway, nearly scraping Devlin's car with the passenger-side rear-view mirror. Dev goes bumpy. "Aren't you supposed to have a driver's test every two hundred and fifty years?"

"Grow up, pipsqueak," Angel replies as he opens the door and gets out. Dev, who's four inches shorter, stands in his way. Angel laughs.

"Just cause you're jealous of my car is no reason to try to take a swipe at it."

"Jealous? Sorry. Red's not my color," Angel says as he walks past the boy. Dev follows him.

"As if your car's any better."

"They only made two thousand of these. How many Mustangs are there – two million?"

"It's a Chrysler! Limited edition can mean a lot. If you're talking about a Ferrari or an Aston Martin. This boat is a Chrysler!"

"Are you sure that he's nineteen?," Oz asks Angel. "Seems younger." In other words, immature.

Dev returns to his human face and sniffs. "You must be the werewolf."

"You must be the mini-Spike." Devlin growls.

"Lucky for you, I won't be growling back." Debbie comes up from behind and puts her arms around Devlin.

"Play nice, honey. He's here to help." She reaches her right hand towards Oz. "I'm Debbie," she says with a smile.

"I'm trying to keep an open mind," Oz replies as he shakes her hand. He can't help but view Deb and Dev as some horribly debased version of Buffy and Angel.

"Has the collection team arrived?," Angel asks Debbie.

"You mean the men in the van? They took the werewolf a little while back. We tried to take care of him until they got here. The guy was pretty messed up."

"But he was human?," Oz asks.

"Eventually," Dev replies.

"How did that happen?"

"It was after I hit him with the second tranquilizer dart."

"What the bloody hell are you doing with tranquilizer darts?," Spike asks.

"And why didn't you use them last night?," Angel follows up. He believes what Devlin and the vampires did the Slayers was one-third about defending Debbie and two-thirds pure sadism.

"Didn't have it. That's the funny part. It's their gun! Their driver ditched the van, and I took all their weapons. The same gun that in the hands of a Watcher would have ruined Debbie's life ends up saving her. Tell Buffy thanks the next chance you get," Dev adds with a wink. Angel walks past him and gets a look at Debbie's bruised face. Spike notices Devlin's bruises.

"Did the werewolf do this?"

Devlin chuckles. "No," Debbie answers with a nervous smile. "I had these before. From training."

"Well, it started out as training," Dev adds mischievously. Spike knows the look. At he can see that Debbie's still glowing from the experience. "I'm sure you boys know what I'm talking about," he says, looking at Spike.

"You do kill vampires, right?," Oz asks Debbie, not quite sure how rogue she is. This Devlin guy strikes him as very, very shady.

"Whenever I can. Problem is, now that I'm beginning to get a reputation, the bloodsuckers are learning to stay away."

"Things had been quieting down," Devlin explains. "Until these last couple nights. All of a sudden, danger's round every corner."

"Explain to me what happened," Angel says to Debbie, trying his best to pretend her boyfriend doesn't exist. Which is tough, since she reaches her right hand back, takes hold of Dev's left hand, and pulls him towards her. She knows Angel would never hurt her, but she's unsure of how these people would treat Devlin. Keeping in contact with him is her way of extending security to him.

"We had just left the house, and were on our way to a party, when it attacked. I tried to run. Dev ran in to get the gun. And he saved me." Debbie leans against him and rests her head on his left shoulder. Angel looks away.

"I think it had been stalking us," Devlin points out. "I heard it behind that bush over there."

"It wus lying in wait?," Spike asks.

"I think so," Devlin responds to the leading question designed to make him look good. At least Spike seemed to be kind of on his side. "It went straight for Debbie, again and again. She jumped on the roof, it climbed up that tree to get on the roof. The wolf was determined."

"That fits the profile," Oz notes.

"What profile?," Debbie asks.

"There's a man who's catching guys like me and turning us into full-time killer wolves."

"And what's he got against me?"

"It's business. He loans the werewolves out to clients."

"Another downside of getting a reputation," Dev says to Deb. "You start acquiring powerful enemies."

"And powerful friends," she adds, smiling at Angel. Devlin stares at Nina, who feels lost, not having been a demon-fighter of any kind. Also, the boys are preening, trying to out-macho each other. She can practically smell the testosterone. Nina wonders if it's always like this when vampires get together. Meanwhile, Devlin can smell the Angel on Nina.

"Are you fucking this werewolf?" He laughs. "You're fucking a werewolf! Though I'm sure that's not what attracted you. Maybe Freud was onto something when he talked about men loving their mothers. By the way, where is Darla these days?" Angel's ready to beat the shit out of this little punk for implying a resemblance between Nina and Darla, and for inadvertently reminding him about Connor by asking about Darla's fate. Nina's concluded that Devlin's an asshole, and therefore nothing he says should be taken seriously.

"Wait a second," Deb interjects. "He can't. You can't. I thought you couldn't. Am I right?" She looks at Spike and Oz. Oz realizes she has a point, but has far too much tact to open his mouth. Time to use his usual reticence to ride out a controversy. "Ya know, Perfect Happiness?" Devlin gets a look of delight and whispers into Debbie's left ear. "Oh. Sorry," she concludes with genuine contrition. The look on her face says it all. As does the look on Nina's face. She feels humiliated. Angel wants to kill Devlin. He sucker punches him with a left hook, sending Devlin to the ground. Debbie immediately responds with a right hook to Angel's face. "Sorry. Instinct," she apologizes to Angel. Debbie looks at Dev, then at Angel. "You men are either going to have to get along, or I'm bringing my stake. Kapish?" Oz finds the take-charge, no-nonsense Slayer to be eerily familiar.

Dev gets up, grabs his jaw and walks over to Debbie from behind. "Sorry love." She nails him in the stomach with a left elbow. He winces. "Ow!"

"They're here to help us. So be nice."

"As you wish, darling."

"That's better." She grabs his left wrist with her right hand. "Now let's go." The two of them climb into Devlin's car. The other four get back into Angel's ride.

"With friends like him . . . " Oz comments.

Ten minutes later, Devlin zooms by Angel on the highway. "Very mature," Debbie says to him.

"He's going sixty. I couldn't take it anymore."

"Why do you have to so difficult?"

"Because they don't respect me. These people view me as some subhuman slug."

"Well maybe they'd be nicer if you weren't such a jerk."

"Sorry I can't get along with your new best friend Angel," Dev sarcastically spits out. Debbie shakes her head in frustration.

"You can be such a sweet, nice, sensitive guy when you want to. Why can't you show that side to people who are helping to save my life?"

"Fine. I'll show Angel respect. If he shows me respect."

"De-evv!," Debbie groans. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult?"

"Life's more fun that way." Debbie sighs in frustration and wraps her arms around Devlin's right arm, resting her head on his right shoulder.

"You know that if I didn't love you so much, I'd have killed you a long time ago."

"Right back at you, darling." He puts his right arm around her shoulders and pulls her close as he floors the gas pedal and passes a few more cars, missing two of them by very narrow margins.

"All the Slayers hate me. All the vampires hate you."

"We got no one to turn to but each other."

"Probably the secret of our success," she quips.

At the firm's offices, everyone follows Angel down a long winding series of hallways. "When was the last time you worked with Angel?," Devlin asks Oz.

"Just after the time Spike tried to steal some invincibility ring."

"A ring? You don't mean the Gem of Amara!?"

"You've heard of it?," Angel asks, assuming Devlin had also wanted to find the ring.

"What's the Gem of Amara?," Debbie asks her boyfriend.

"A great way to lose your hand. It makes vampires unkillable. Sun, stakes, crosses - nothing can hurt you. Unless someone lops off your limb, or merely rips the ring off your finger. That's what happened! Am I right, Spike? Buffy yanked, and that was that. You probably attacked her during the daytime, which means that once you lost the ring, you couldn't even continue the fight. Real smart thinking, William. But I guess anyone stupid enough to want the ring wouldn't be bright enough to know how to exploit it." Angel's getting a kick out of Devlin's slagging of his sire. "Then what happened? No, don't tell me. Buffy gives the ring to beloved Angel so that he can use it to fight evil and such. But Angel's smart enough to destroy the gem, bringing this comic opera to an anti-climactic end."

"Not quite," Spike objects.

"Then Angel would've missed out on a fine day of torture," Oz recalls, glaring at Spike.

"You tortured Angel?," Dev asks Spike. "Obviously you didn't do it right. He's not disfigured. You torture a vampire by cutting off parts that don't grow back: ears, eyes, nose, lips, fingers, toes, other appendages. Now be honest, Angel – wouldn't that have been more effective?"

Finally, Nina's had enough. "You date him?," she asks Debbie, trying to sound gentle, lest the Slayer respond with painful punches.

"What's wrong with torturing vampires? Other than Angel, and Devlin of course."

"Hey!," Spike objects, feeling left out. Since Debbie loves Devlin for what's left of his humanity, she can't help wishing he had never been bitten, and therefore blames Spike for turning young Herman into a killer.

"What's wrong with making the bloodsuckers suffer if I can get them to tell me information that'll kill other bloodsuckers and save more lives?"

"Brutality like that dehumanizes you after a while," Angel explains.

"I'm not the one doing it."

"How do you find the locations of vampire nests around town?," Dev asks Angel and Spike. "Or do you just wait for them to attack and hope you're nearby at the right time to stop them? Think of how empty our jails would be if cops only arrested the criminals they caught in the act." Now even Spike's turned against Dev. The six of them enter the lab, where Wesley and Fred are waiting. "Hey Fred," Devlin says with a smile. "You miss me?"

"Ummm, howdy Devlin," she nervously replies.

"So this is the vampire," a decidedly unimpressed Wesley comments.

"You must be Wesley Wyndham Price," Dev declares, shaking Wes's hand. "The onetime Watcher. Just think, a few different turns of fate, and we'd be enemies. Imagine that!"

"It isn't hard to do," Wes mutters. Devlin keeps playing excessively nice.

"A sense of humor. I love this guy!," he enthuses, patting Wesley's left shoulder with his right hand. He looks at Fred, whispering "He's a huge improvement over the last guy" as he walks by her. This indicates that he might have been stalking her at one time, sending chills down Fred's spine.

"How is he?," Debbie asks Fred regarding the werewolf.

"You'll have to ask Doctor Colliers. He's the one handling the treatment."

"But he's alive?"

"Yes."

"Is he talking?," Angel asks.

"Affirmative," genial-looking doctor about sixty years of age with a short fuzzy white beard says as he emerges from the examining room. "Whether it will do you any good is another matter entirely."

"Doctor Colliers," Angel begins.

"Please, call me Randy. I wasn't expecting such a crowd. Vampires, werewolves and, judging from your age, a Slayer? Oh my! I don't think I've ever been blessed with such a distinguished audience." Deb, Dev, Nina and Oz look at him suspiciously, wondering how he could deduce what they were so quickly. Nina and Oz he knew since they'd been in containment inside the building. Devlin was easy, since he didn't breathe. As for Debbie, he figured that, given the group, she had to have some sort of superpower. "Don't look so frightened. It's not like I plan to perform experiments on any of you," he jokes, though no one appreciates the humor. So Randolph decides to get down to business. "The human-to-wolf transformation is triggered by excessive activity in the limbic region of the lower brain, a so-called Limbic Storm.' Something, probably a drug of heretofore unknown composition, has triggered a permanent Limbic Storm in our patient. The heavy dose of sedatives slowed brain activity to the point where he reverted to human form. I've administered mild stimulants to make him lucid and conscious, but not enough to excite his brain even to normal levels of activity, since even that might trigger a relapse."

"How long was he a wolf?," Oz asks.

"From what I could tell from talking to him, between thirty and forty five days. Which means he's probably suffered significant permanent physical damage. The human body is a flimsy cage in which to house a giant wolf. The animal is too powerful, and too massive, for its frail human host. In addition, the canine and human skeletal systems are vastly different. The human pelvis was not designed for quadrupedal mobility. My guess is he'll suffer from moderate to severe arthritis, and his bones, ligaments, tendons and muscles will be fragile and highly susceptible to injury for many months to come."

"Does that sort of thing happen to ordinary werewolves?," Nina asks, concerned both by the doctor's message and the clinical way he presents it.

"The good news is that changing for only 6 to 18 hour intervals does not have the same crippling consequences. The bad news, in fact, the tragic news, is that the repeated rapid cell divisions occasioned by three dozen annual transformations wreaks havoc with the body's DNA, producing mutations and, inevitably, cancer. There's no record of a werewolf undergoing thrice monthly transformations and surviving for more than twenty years." Naturally, Nina goes pale and looks terrified. Oz is also afraid, though not as deathly afraid as Nina.

"How the hell did you learn that?," she asks. He leaves, heads into his office, returns and places a scientific periodical on the table. "There was an article in the Fall 2001 issue of the Journal of Abnormal Physiology." Nina grabs it and rifles through the magazine, looking for it.

"That reminds me," Fred says, trying to pierce the deathly silence. "I really should catch up on my back issues. There was an interesting piece from 2002 about some chipped vampires the military kept in custody." Then she remembers one of the findings and shuts up, regretting ever having mentioned this article. She also finds herself unable to look Spike in the eye.

"You mean on the vampire sex drive!," Randy recalls with the tactlessness of someone who's spent far too many decades in the lab. "I found that quite fascinating. It turns out physically preventing vampires from feeding alters their brain chemistry over the long term. The shutting off of the violence pleasure centers causes an overload of the erotic pleasure centers. Simply put, they turn from killers into nymphomaniacs." He chuckles. "The doctors brought in some female vampires, and the poor girls were nearly rodgered into oblivion." He looks at Spike, who's quite uncomfortable at the moment. "I'd imagine that acquiring a soul would radically affect neurochemistry, what with cruelty and predatory aggression no longer producing pleasure. Did it also reduce your sex drive? Have you noticed a difference in your libido?"

"Doctor. Spike is not a test subject," Fred gently reminds him.

"Not anymore. But I'd be willing to pay you $5,000 for a non-invasive brain scan. If Angel would volunteer, I'd be prepared to put up ten thousand for each of you."

"I don't think anyone's ever put such a high value on Spike's brain," Angel jokes.

"Would that be in cash?," Spike asks.

"That's my money!," Fred shouts. "My lab's money. This company's money."

"It would be cutting-edge research. The positive exposure in the scientific community would more than compensate the firm. They're always fretting about our ability to recruit the best and the brightest, and top-notch work is the best way to achieve that goal."

"Can we talk to the patient?," Angel asks.

"Yes. But be gentle. Please don't do anything to alarm or enrage him." Nina and Oz rush in, along with Angel. Debbie takes Devlin by the arm and pulls him away from the doctor, with whom Dev was beginning an animated discussion about vampire physiology. They go see the patient as well.

"Which issue was that?," Wes asks about the article on vampires.

"I think it was Summer."

"Good. Now I know which back issue to avoid." The patient sits up. He's made nervous by the sudden crowd, taking special notice of Debbie.

"All we want is to help you," Angel assures him. "And help the others. There are others?"

"Three. With me. And him. There were three more."

"Now let's take it slow. Tell us what you remember."

"My name is Stanley Pasquin. It was. Or, it is. But it wasn't. He called me Stan. Just, Stan. Dogs don't have last names. I'm a geologist. I lived in Cheyenne, Wyoming. I was bit eight years ago. I used to teach at the University of Missouri. But that was, too crowded. So I took a job with the U.S.G.S that allowed me to move where there was more space. On the full moon nights, I'd go out into the forest, miles and miles from the nearest road. That was safe. No one got hurt. Except me. When he caught me. Then, everything changed, cause I couldn't change back."

"Ezra Collins. He's the one who did this to you?," Oz asks.

"I don't know. He didn't tell us his name. Why would we need to know that? We were just animals. I can tell you what he looks like."

"Can you tell us where he is?," Angel wonders.

"I don't know, I don't know. A lake. A big lake. In the desert. Sometimes, at night, he'd let us out to hunt. There was a lot to hunt."

"The Salton Sea Wildlife Refuge!," Devlin shouts. "I've hunted a few vampires who were hiding out around there."

"You mean around the canals?," Debbie asks.

"Remember how when I rode them down, they jumped in, and we had to swim to catch them?" They both laugh over the amusing memory. Angel's upset he didn't come up with the hiding spot first. Large lake in the Southern California desert – he figures it would've occurred to him any second. "So we bum rush this guy, free the animals, I mean, the people, and save these two lovely werewolves from a similar fate."

"There's about ten towns surrounding that lake," Angel points out, pouring water on Devlin's triumphalism. "Howard, could you recognize Ezra's scent."

"In a heartbeat," he replies, ready to deliver harsh vengeance to this evil man.

"Excuse me," Doctor Collier says, inching his way into the already crowded room. "I couldn't help but overhear your intention to move my patient. This man is not going anywhere tonight."

"Other lives are at stake," Angel argues. "Howard doesn't return, Ezra notices, and he skips town. We have to move now."

"Howard can't move. Not without risking broken legs and a shattered pelvis."

"Then I'll carry him."

"Have you considered the dangers inherent in bringing this man back to the fellow who turned him into a permanent werewolf?"

"He'll be protected." Three extremely strong vampires, a Slayer, plus Wesley: this group's strong enough to stop an apocalypse, let alone a mere man.

"It's okay, Angel," Oz interjects. "Werewolves can smell one of their own. Sometimes from miles away. We'll find them for you."

"I suppose that should be enough," Angel reluctantly relents. He hates being undermined, especially twice in quick succession. "Wesley, you go with Fred. We'll need at least three tranq guns. Oz, Nina, you'll come with me. We'll be in the lead. Debbie, you can follow." Everyone leaves the room except for Oz and Nina, who have a few questions for the doctor.

"That study you read on werewolves," Oz begins. "Does it say anything about the ones who learn to stop changing?"

"Since the transformations are what leads to premature death, ceasing them should avert the risk. The sooner it's done, the less chance of permanent physical damage."

"In other words, they live longer?"

"Of course. There is a medication to prevent transformation, but it has very serious side effects, similar to Thorazine in its ability to shut down the mind and interfere with daily activities. But there are other, non-pharmacological ways of going about this."

"I know. I mean, I have." Doctor Colliers smiles.

"Well then. Very good for you!," he says with inadvertent condescension. "Since the root cause is, ultimately, in your head, it's possibly to naturally alter thought processes in a way that produces a sort of permanent tranquility."

"Yeah. But I had that even before I became a werewolf."


	22. Can't save them all

Devlin and Debbie follow Angel at a leisurely distance, with Spike sitting in the back seat. "You comfy back there?," Dev asks with a grin.

"More comfortable that I'd be in a car with people who don't trust me."

"How do you know that's not the case?," Debbie inquires.

"He said people," Devlin notes. "As in more than one."

"And yet you trust Angel?," Spike asks.

"He never hurt anyone I care about." Spike has to spend a few seconds thinking this through. Is she talking about Devlin? But he wouldn't be there with her if it hadn't been for Spike. He's stumped. Buffy had plenty of grievances against Darla and Drusilla, but making Angel and Spike weren't two of them.

"Do you know what he thinks of you?"

"That I'm a confused, wayward girl in need of guidance and mentoring."

"Okay, you do know. It doesn't bother you that he's so bloody condescending?"

"He means well. And he doesn't want anything from me."

"Bollocks."

"You agree that he's hot for her?," Devlin asks Spike. "How could he not. Look at her." Dev puts his right arm around her shoulders. She takes his right hand in her right hand and smiles uncomfortably, appreciative of the compliment but disturbed by his false insinuations about Angel.

"Deb's not his type."

"She's a Slayer."

"She's not a blonde."

"So that really is his thing. Talk about shallow," Devlin snipes.

"Angel gets his rocks off rescuing people. That's why he's interested in you, Deb. He needs to change you life so he can feel better about his own. But your life doesn't need changing. At least not the kind Angel has in mind." Devlin appreciates what he incorrectly interprets as Spike's endorsement of their love.

"As long as he doesn't wanna kill or kidnap me, I'm cool with Angel."

"What about me?," Spike asks. "I don't fancy doing any of those things to you."

"Someone's desperate to be loved," Debbie jokes.

"Spike's just feeling left out," Dev explains, quickly kissing Deb on the lips and taking her left hand in his right. "All those years when you were with Dru, and I was the third wheel. Now you know how I felt." Deb puts his right hand on her left thigh.

"Don't bring me into your little family drama," Debbie tells Devlin. She thinks what bothers Spike is that Angel and Wesley have girlfriends, while he's still uncoupled. "I know what you're going through," Deb says to Spike.

"Somehow, I doubt that."

"No joke. Last year, my best friend Cynthia went steady with Theo, and I was the odd girl out for six months. Until Devlin showed up." He puts his hand on her stomach. She smiles and leans back.

"Spike's not looking for a girl," Dev tells her. "If he was, he wouldn't be slumming around these parts. He'd be in Rome." Spike hits the back of Dev's head rest with a split-second left jab so hard that it sends Dev's nose into the steering wheel, causing him to nearly lose control of the vehicle. Debbie snarls and reaches her left hand back to grab Spike by the neck. He calmy intercepts her left hand with his right, entangling his fingers with hers and bending the joints back just enough to hurt the Slayer.

"I think you'll find it much more fun to put your hands on the other vampire in this car." He lets go, having restored his dignity by reminding the kiddies who they're messing with. She whimpers. Dev puts his right hand to her left cheek.

"Let it go, baby. Old Spike's not to be trifled with." He runs his hand down her left arm, gently takes hold of her injured hand, massages the joints, and puts her left pinkie in his mouth. She smiles and coos. Spike senses a strange and unhealthy William-and-Dru dynamic at work, with Devlin firing Debbie up so he can then cool her down, protecting her from danger and inspiring her with his outlandish deeds.

"Are we there yet?," Debbie asks, somewhat bored after more than two-and-a-half hours of driving. "We've been circling this lake for, like, twenty minutes."

"I guess the Oz and Nina haven't smelled any of their kin," Spike infers.

"I wonder what PETA's stance on this would be?," Devlin muses. "They're definitely against holding animals in captivity. But are werewolves animals or people? I'm not sure if they have a position on turning people into pets."

"I think they'd be against it," Deb offers, going along with his conceit. "You think we should report this guy?"

"Who knows? If Oz had gone to them first, maybe the werewolves would be free by now."

"But they wouldn't be human."

"Good point. How would they view the issue of turning animals into people?" Angel puts on the brakes.

"Finally!," Debbie exclaims. It's well past midnight, and she didn't get much sleep the previous night. The three of them get out. Wesley stops his bike, and he and Fred put their feet on the ground. Angel, Nina and Oz are joined by Gunn, who thought this would be a nice break from legal work. The nine of them converge. Nina and Oz try to sniff out the enemy while Wes, Gunn and Fred load their rifles and pistols.

"They're all around us," Oz reports. Everyone looks for hiding spots. There are a few bushes: an embankment at the edge of the lake, a large rock and a long, thin tin shack. Otherwise, this is flat, open low desert. The nighttime views are murky but vast, making the individual feel small. It's very quiet, creating the sense of being very alone in a vast wilderness. Combine that with the knowledge that some unseen enemy may be hunting you, and the ambience is quite unnerving. More than anything, you want to do something.

"Let me go out alone," Debbie whispers to Angel. "I can draw them out."

"No," he quickly replies.

"I won't use you as bait," Devlin adds, explaining Angel's point for him, which both vampires find odd.

"They aren't be stupid enough to attack all of us at once," she argues.

"Maybe if Oz and Nina went out," Dev suggests. "He might try to capture them and reveal himself."

"No one is being used as bait," Angel maintains, angered but not surprised by the distinction Dev draws between Debbie and Nina. "Quiet," Angel says. "Nobody move." The three vampires perk their ears up. Devlin recognizes the sound of a bolt-action rifle being cocked. Angel and Spike look in the direction of the shack, 150 yards away. Devlin takes out his pistol and fires two shots at the apex of the roof. Ezra, who's lying on the opposite side of the roof while balancing his gun on the apex, has to pull back, as both shots strike the roof within a foot of his rifle.

"Everybody get down," Wesley says. Gunn, Fred and Debbie already had. While Oz and Nina crouch, and Angel stands in front of Nina, protecting her with his body, Devlin sprints for the shooter.

"And he calls me impulsive," Spike grouses before running after the boy to provide backup.

"They better hope he doesn't have a crossbow," Fred comments. Just then, a wolf rushes up the embankment forty feet to her left and attacks. Wesley points his rifle, but the wolf swats it away before he can shoot. Angel comes to their aid, knocking the wolf down with a left cross and right hook. Meanwhile, a wolf comes out of the brush fifty yards to Nina's right, attacking her and Oz. Gunn gets off a shot, but it's travelling very fast on all fours, and he misses. Debbie steps in front of them, a mace in her right hand.

"I'm the one you want. Come and get me." The wolf leaps at Debbie, who calmy holds her ground and swats him between the eyes. He gets on his hind legs and swings his right paw for her head. She swerves her head back to avoid the blow. Up in the vanguard, Devlin is caught by surprise when a werewolf emerges from the shack only fifteen feet from him. He gets run over. Spike, who's thirty feet behind, tries to catch the wolf and wrestle him down, but the quick animal eludes his grasp. Now there is nothing between this wolf and Nina and Oz.

"That thing you do," Nina says to Oz. "Where you change when it's not the fool moon. Can you do that for self-defense?"

"Never tried. Rather not find out." He takes her hand and runs away, past Debbie and past Angel, in order to buy time. As they look on, Wes picks up his rifle, Fred aims her pistol, and they each put a dart in the wolf Angel is fighting. Using his rifle as a club, Gunn assists Debbie in holding back the second wolf. As Wes and Fred reload, Angel turns to protect Nina from the third wolf. He goes bumpy and growls. The wolf stands on its hind legs and growls back. Wesley aims his rifle at the stationary target. But just before he can pull the trigger, Spike leaps on the wolf's back and wrestles it to the ground.

"You bloody idiot!," Wes calls out. The wolf Debbie's fighting stands on its legs to tower over her. She hits it in the head with a leaping right kick. The wolf falls on his back. When he rolls over, Gunn hits the front left leg before it can make a charge on all fours. Debbie pummels the hapless beast with a mace to the right ear. The animal whimpers, turns and gallops away. Wes turns to his right, notices this positive development, and hits the wolf in the back from sixty feet. It slows down, but stays up. Gunn aims and puts a dart in its backside. It rolls over, unconscious. Deb pats Charles on the left shoulder.

"Good work."

"Yeah. You too." Deb raises her right hand. They high-five.

"Is Spike trying to pin that wolf?," Debbie asks. "And where's Dev?"

Devlin had made it his mission to catch Ezra. The wolf attack was a perfect screen for a getaway. Moreover, he wasn't sure how good the "Good Guys" were at battling humans, since killing them might run afoul of their moral code. He found Ezra on top of the thirty foot-high roof. The sides of the building were twenty feet – too high for a single leap. And the metal siding was impossible to get a grip on and climb up. The nature of the structure made him safe from vampires. And the high-powered rifle he carried made him safe from humans. His plan was to make an all-out assault too risky to attempt. The do-gooders would take his wolves, thereby achieving victory. But he could escape to round up more. The shallow slope of the roof made it impossible for Devlin to shoot Ezra from up close. But a retreat would leave Devlin vulnerable to a head shot. So, he goes inside. The lights are off in the eighty foot-long, thirty foot-wide shed. It's mostly empty. Inside the sheet metal is a wooden frame. Devlin considers torching the place to flush Ezra out. There's no way to get to the roof from inside. (Ezra used a ladder propped up against the outside. Using that ladder would open the climber to point-blank fire.) To win, he'd have to try something Ezra did not anticipate.

Devlin exits out the far side of the shed and runs back to the cars in a clockwise arc, using shrubs, cacti, rocks and small hillocks as cover. Also, to aim at Dev, Ezra would have to turn his back on everyone else. After quite a tussle, the wolf throws Spike off of him. Angel kicks the wolf in the head before it can get up, and the animal retreats before suddenly turning and leaping at Angel before the others can aim to get a good shot. Spike joins in the defense, grabbing the wolf's right arm as Angel grabs its left. Their combined efforts throw the wolf ten feet back. As it lies prone, Fred puts a dart in its stomach. It slowly but surely goes to sleep. The gang catches their breath. Suddenly, Angel hears his car start. Devlin's behind the wheel. (Assuming a wolf wasn't going to steal it, Angel had left the keys in the ignition.)

"My car!"

"Spike! Get in!! Everyone else: get back!!!," Dev calls out as he revs the engine.

"This should be fun," Spike responds as he leaps over the back seat and into the front passenger seat. Dev takes off.

"What the hell is that boy doin'?," Gunn asks.

"He's ruining my transmission. Does that kid even know how to drive a manual?" A bullet hits the ground two feet to the left of Angel.

"You heard Dev," Debbie reminds them. "Get back!"

She grabs Oz and runs towards Devlin's car and crouches behind it as more shots ring out. Wesley takes Fred by the arm and races towards the embankment, hiding on the reverse slope where they are safe from fire. Gunn and Angel hit the deck right where they are standing. But Angel quickly spots Nina and runs towards her, taking a bullet in the left calf. Another bullet hits the rear driver's side door of Devlin's Mustang. For his part, Devlin quickly shifts into second, then third gear, and bears down on the side of the shed. Driving at the gunfire: this was a plan Spike could get behind. The zooming car distracted Ezra, preventing him from hitting Wes or Fred as they made their way to safety. His first shot at Dev hits the front left tire. The second takes out the front left headlight. The third hits the front window, partially shattering it before passing only inches from Devlin's right ear. Angel hears the shots, and fears for the safety of his vehicle.

"Why couldn't he take his own car?," Angel asks angrily, knowing the reason is that Dev is evil and, therefore, inconsiderate. Driving into the shed at an angle, Devlin busts through one side and out the other, stripping metal and shattering wooden frame. The roof buckles and collapses. Ezra falls ten feet before letting go of his rifle and grabbing onto what's left of a wooden support, landing with both feet on the ground. Devlin quickly drives round the shed, turns on the headlight and bears down on Ezra from behind. In front of him, Wesley charges on his motorcycle, with Angel and the others following on foot. He runs to his left, where rocks and hills make a motorized pursuit difficult. Devlin slams on his breaks and Spike jumps out. He quickly closes with Ezra, leaps through the air and tackles him to the ground. After slowing down to negotiate the rough terrain, Wesley stops his bike fifteen feet from the target and gets out. Spike has him in an armlock from behind.

"Looks like I caught myself a desert rat," Spike says. Ezra grabs a cross in his back pocket and puts it to the back of Spike's hand. He grimaces and lets go. Ezra uses the crucifix to force Spike to back away and join the others.

"There should be rule against things like this," Devlin complains. "Doesn't Jesus get offended when evil guys use his symbol to protect themselves?"

Ezra's slightly shorter than Spike and a little more wiry. He's in his late forties, with short black hair graying at the temples. He wears black boots, khaki pants and an olive t-shirt, his tanned, ruddy face and the scar on his neck illustrating the rough desperado life he's led. Ezra remains calm. He's been in tougher jams. "So the Los Angeles office of Wolfram & Hart has sent me a welcoming committee. Not a big surprise. Your Chicago, Miami and Mexico City offices have already shown great interest in my work."

"Then maybe you should have stayed on their turf," Angel responds.

"Who the Hell are you working for?," Debbie asks.

"Who am I not working for is the better question."

She walks up the him. "Well, who sent you to kill me?" Devlin takes her left arm and slowly pulls her back.

"Some vamps in Vegas. A few from Phoenix also chipped in. I can give you names and addresses. Now that I've failed, their deaths are in the interests of both of us."

"In whose interests were you coming after me?," Oz asks.

Ezra looks at Oz and grins. "The marketplace. It demands. I supply. You can't fight capitalism."

"But we can do an awful lot to you," Angel threatens. Ezra brushes it off.

"Three of your offices want me alive. One wants me dead. Who do you think your superiors will side with?"

"Doesn't matter if you're already dead," Gunn answers. "And for someone as unimportant as you, we'll only get a slap on the wrist."

"Is she the reason?," Ezra asks Angel, pointing at Nina. "Relax. She was never in my sights. Her breed is too hard to tame. Then again, you might already know that," he adds with a smirk.

"You really think you can negotiate your way out of this?," Wesley inquires.

"No," he replies with a smile. Ezra has a Tec-9 stuck under the back of his pants. Spike hadn't bothered to frisk him. His right hand's been resting on his right hip. Now, he moves his hand back a couple inches without attracting suspicion, grabs the gun and aims for Oz's heart. But Devlin grabs his gun and fires, hitting Ezra's weapon as he pulls the trigger. The barrel is knocked to the side, Ezra's shot misses, and the gun flies out of his hand to the ground. Wesley also took out his pistol, but was a fraction of a second slower than Devlin on the draw. They both point their weapons at Ezra's head. He smiles and puts up his hands. "Okay, okay. You got me. But I'm worth more to you alive than dead."

"True," Angel responds. Dev and Wes aim and fire simultaneously, Devlin hitting his right shin, and Wesley his left. He goes down. They look at each other.

"Two peas in pod," Dev says to Wes. "No wonder Fred likes me." Wesley's disturbed by the momentary mind meld. Independently, they had thought of and decided to do the same action at exactly the same moment.

"That should keep 'im from goin' anywhere," Fred notes. They hear a vehicle approaching. It's a Wolfram & Hart ambulance truck. Angel told them to be ready for the werewolves. Fred, Wes and Gunn run over to the truck. Debbie slowly walks up to Ezra. "I always say a soul doesn't make people good." Then she kicks him in the teeth with her right foot, walks back to Devlin and hugs him. She can't help but appreciate the irony that it was soulless Devlin who made tracking down and catching Ezra possible. Angel and friends would rather not dwell on that fact. Especially Oz, whose life had just been saved by the soulless vampire.

"Count you blessings, pal," Devlin says to Ezra as he grabs his hair. "At least I'm not the one who'll be holding you hostage." By now, Angel, Nina and Oz have joined the others around the werewolves. Devlin drags Ezra towards them.

"So what's your deal?," Ezra whispers to Dev. "You wanna make sure you're the one who kills her?" Dev drops him, grabs Ezra's right hand, and breaks his pinky. Ezra cries out in pain. Angel looks back worrisomely. He doesn't want Dev mutilating the captive before they get a chance to find out his client list and what he gave the werewolves to keep them permanently wolfy. But Devlin quickly grabs Ezra's left arm and resumes dragging. "Were you the vampire in Sierra Leone? Yeah, you look like the guy in the pictures."

"Were you one of my head hunters?"

"No. I was laundering diamonds for the rebels."

"How much did Ferdi Sankoh put on my head?"

"Five grand."

"That's all!"

"It's a poor country. Not a bad bounty for a child killer."

"Those children were remorseless killers. Worse than demons. At least they kill for a reason."

"You're not like Angel. Or even Spike. No, you're a lot more like me."

"With one big difference. You're the one getting dragged. And I'm the one doing the dragging." Dev stops when he gets to Angel. "He's your responsibility now. Oh, and by the way, you're welcome." Angel turns away. He could never bring himself to say "Thank you" to Devlin. Doctor Colliers looks over the bodies.

"What is he doing here?," Angel asks. "Who's watching Stan?"

"The nurses," Randall replies. "He's heavily sedated. The man can hardly stand up, let alone escape." Randy counts the darts. He takes one out to read the markings that indicate dosage. "A double dosage should have been enough." He shakes his head.

"Somethin' wrong?," Fred asks.

"They've gained weight. They've filled out. Like a similarly-sized animal would. Which means they've been wolves a lot longer than poor Stan. And the longer it's been, the slimmer the chances of making it back."

"We can't leave 'em like this," Deb pleads.

"That's a death sentence of another sort." He's handed a needle. "This works directly on the brain. It's their best shot." He chuckles at his pun, then sticks the needle in the back of a wolf's neck. He's handed other needles, and does the same to two more wolves. Then Randy steps back, folds his arms and watches. Everyone's worried. Oz holds Nina's hand. Over the course of a minute, three wolves become three men. But none of them move. The medics take the paddles to chests of two of them, trying to jump start the heart. But Randy kneels down over one of them and puts his hand out to shoo the medic away. He places his ear close to the man's mouth. "This one's breathing. Barely. But breathing." They put him on a stretcher. He looks over the other men. "These two are done for," he dismissively declares before walking away to deal with the surviving werewolf. The other people on the scene think the doctor is being grossly premature. Fred, – his boss – runs up to him.

"What the hell kind of a doctor are you?"

"One who knows which patients can be saved."

"You didn't even examine them."

"Winifred, when you have done this as long as I have, you learn to recognize the moment when life leaves a body. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to do everything I can to keep our one surviving patient alive." He enters the back of the truck and checks out the man's vitals. Wesley walks over and stands behind Fred, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"Our latest villain just told Angel that the two men who did not make it had been wolves for more than six months. There was no humanity left inside them."

"So then, we killed them."

"They would have been dead within months. And what they were living was no life."

"Ah guess. We probably woulda had to put 'em in cages."

"At least Ezra will finally find out what that is like."

Angel drags their prisoner to the medical truck. "Hey doc. I think you might want to take a look. He's got two open wounds, and I'd hate to have him succumb to infection."

"Of course. Strap him down," he tells his two assistants. "Now Mister Angel, how cooperative has our enemy been?"

"He's a weasel. Weasels love to sing. They think it'll win them something."

"Has he revealed the chemical composition of the drug he gave these werewolves?"

"We haven't gotten to that."

"I think I might be of assistance. This miscreant needs me to heal his wounds. And I shall. The only question is, does he want me to use anesthesia." Randy smiles as he looks at the strapped-down, helpless Ezra. Angel leaves. One glimpse of the mad scientist living inside this genial old country doctor was enough.


	23. Getting Lucky

Harmony scores, and rubs it in Spike's face. Also, the Scoobies learn about Jeta's history.

"Thanks," Oz says to Angel as he steps out of his car. "That goes without saying. Even though I did."

"All in a day's work. If you need any other help - "

"Wouldn't think of imposing. So who do make the check out to?"

"Check? No. Oz, there's no charge. It's on the house."

"You sure? All that lab work had to cost something."

"I'm on salary. They don't pay me by the job." Then what do they pay him for?, Oz thinks to himself.

"Okay," he shrugs.

"We saved two lives tonight thanks to you, Oz."

"Score two for self-preservation. Later." He heads inside. Angel drives off, with Nina in the front passenger seat.

"When you said you wanted to go out tonight, this wasn't what I had in mind," she jokes.

"This was why I resisted going out with you. I don't make the most reliable boyfriend."

"Reliable's what you want in a sparkplug. Excitement, on the other hand, is a nice quality in a boyfriend." She puts her left hand on his right thigh.

"You felt bad," Deb says to Dev as they drive south. "You saw them dying, and you felt bad for them."

"Only because it made victory less than total."

"Admit it! You felt sad."

"I didn't even know their names."

"Didn't matter. Don't be embarrassed. I felt bad for them, too. So did everyone else."

"Are we playing Dev's Developed A Moral Compass' again?"

"You have. I've humanized you. And tenderized you. No, that last one sounds really gross. But you've changed."

"No denying that, Deb." He puts his right arm around her and pulls her close. "But don't get your hopes up. Just because I love you doesn't mean I'm growing to love my fellow man."

"It's a start."

"I'll never be a servant of man like Angel."

"What about a servant of woman?"

"Well, one woman." She puts her head on his right shoulder. He glances over at her and smiles. She looks up at the stars.

"Let's drive all night."

"Where?"

"Doesn't matter. Just you and me and the road and sky until sunrise. Then we'll go home, make love, sleep all day, and spend Saturday night hunting."

"What about your friends?"

"They don't need to come along. They have lives. Why risk them?"

"Especially now that you have newer, stronger friends," Dev jokes.

"What? You mean Angel? That's totally different. I would never ditch Cynthia for - "

"What about ditching me?"

"Devlin!"

"I was the oddball out tonight."

"You know I don't care about that."

"For now. Eventually you'll want to be respectable. When I'm with you, and we're around people who know what I am, I feel like I'm dragging you down to my level. You deserve better. You deserve someone who won't make people look at you like you're damaged."

"That's their problem. You did Angel and his werewolf friend a major favor tonight. And if they're too prejudiced to appreciate that, fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all." Playing on the stereo is Lou Reed's "Perfect Day":

"Just a perfect day.

You make me forget myself.

I thought I was someone else,

Someone good."

"I wonder if missing the party was worth it," Devlin jokes.

Harmony enters the packed room with Sidney. She's nervous about her first reimmerssion into high school life in four years. "Do I look too old to be here?"

"You're kidding, right?," Sid responds. "Relax Harm. Nobody knows."

"That I'm older?," she whispers. Sidney laughs. "Ohhh. The vampire thing."

"Just play it cool. These are high school boys. Long as you're a hot girl, they don't care if your body's cold." Harmony winces, since Sidney unwittingly makes sex with vampires sound a lot like necrophilia. She tries to be less self-conscious, and scopes the room out, attempting to get back into high school character.

"Oh gawd. What is SHE doing with HIM?" The young man glances in Harmony's direction. He looks again. Harmony turns away and smiles.

"Omigod! Did you see that?"

"He wants you." Harmony glances again.

"What if they're dating?"

"Who cares?"

"Who cares!? He's going steady with her, so I get shot down and humiliated in front of all these people."

"You don't know any of them."

"Still. It's mortifying."

"It would be. If you weren't already dead," Sid replies with a smirk. "It's like hunting. The same urges. The same impulses. The same technique. You want, you take, you devour," she explains, staring into Harmony's eyes.

"But, what if I get carried away? One minute, we're necking, and then the neck thing I know, we're REALLY necking." Sidney pushes Harmony's back into the wall and kisses her on the right side of her neck. "Ewww! I'm not that kind of vampire. Does Diego know you are?" Sidney laughs.

"Think with your lips." She lightly gnaws Harmony's neck with her human teeth. "Not with your teeth. That's all ya gotta remember."

Harmony nods nervously. "Lips, not teeth. Lips yes, teeth no. Do you really go for, you know - ?"

"Is that a proposition?" Harmony pushes her away. "Sorry Harm. I just thought a teeny, tiny part of you liked it."

"No. No way. Absolutely no part of me liked it."

"She doth protest too much."

Harmony looks confused. "What's a doth?"

"I'm just playin', girlfriend. The only thing I've ever eaten or drank out of a woman was her blood. But that doesn't mean I don't throw in a little seduction when I'm trying to bite some nice, ripe female. Ya know what I'm talkin' about."

"No. No, no. Honestly, I don't."

Sidney giggles. "You're telling me everyone you've ever bitten was a guy?"

"I'm going to hunt, or, pick up boys, or, whatever now." Harmony walks away, majorly weirded out by Sidney's assertions. The first thing that came to her mind was that time she attempted to bite Cordy. Surely there was absolutely nothing erotic about that. She quickly gets her mind back on boys. Specifically the strapping, handsome boy she was approaching. Harmony walks by him from behind, getting his scent. Then she circles menacingly round the girl he's talking to and stops in front of the boy and just the the girl's left, nudging her out of the way. In her high heels, she's two inches taller than the girl and three inches shorter than the boy. "Hi! I'm Harmony."

"I'm Alex."

"Excuse me," the girl interjects.

"And you're leaving," Harmony replies. The girl gasps. "So you came here alone, Alex?"

"Ughh, yeah," he answers with a smile, blown away by the attention.

"Sorry to be rude," the girl pointedly says, "but we were in the middle of something."

"And now you're at the end. Alex, would you like something to drink?"

"Umm, okay."

Harmony looks down at the girl. "Can you go get him something to drink?" She looks forlornly at Alex, who appears to be staring at Harmony's breasts. The girl leaves in a huff. "Glad to have that third wheel out of the way," she jokes to Alex.

"What school do you go to?"

Harmony pauses. "I don't. I mean, I graduated high school. I'm a freshman in college."

"Which one?"

She looks confused. This was hard. "The one in Los Angeles."

He laughs, thinking she's playing coy. "Which one?"

"UCLA." Whoo. Good thing she came up with that.

"That's a long way away. What are you doing here?"

"You don't want me to be here?"

"No. I'm glad you're here."

"So am I. Now that I've met you." She smiles. He goes into mini-swoon. "I'm here with a friend." She looks around and finds Sidney. "Her."

"Diego's girlfriend." Alex looks confused. "I thought she went to Mission Viejo?"

"We were friends in high school." If Harmony wasn't cold-blooded, she'd be sweating by now. Creating a fake identity was hard. Like being a spy. "Do you go to Laguna Hills?"

"Yeah. I'm a Senior."

"So you're a Senior, and I'm a Freshman," she jokes.

"Guess that's one way to look at it."

"Looks pretty good from where I'm standing."

"Looks good from here, too." Jackpot. She hadn't lost her touch.

"I can't stand it," Xander says to Buffy, sitting in the library with Dawn and Gretchen. "They're treating you like a villain. This is insane! How big of an idiot do you have to be to see Buffy as the bad guy and a bunch of vampires as the good guys!"

"About as idiotic as the U.S. government," Buffy responds.

"Certain branches of the government," Gretchen clarifies. "You do still have sympathizers in other branches."

Dawn laughs. "I'm sorry. Sympathizers.' Terrorists have sympathizers. Nazis have sympathizers. If we have sympathizers,' then we really are in deep trouble."

"Can Riley do something about this?," Xander asks. Gretch tries to conceal her laughter about his naive view of the government as some unified entity where a low-ranking military officer can cause an Attorney General to reverse policy. Giles enters the room.

"That was Tugba and Collette," he announces.

"Is there a problem?," Buffy asks. Surely this weekend couldn't get any worse.

"Not really. Patrolling was fruitful. They slayed four vampires, including one who had a Slayer kill to his credit."

"They got Wolfgang!," Gretchen exclaims. "What was he doing all the way up in Hamburg?"

"Apparently our sweep had flushed him out of Bavaria. And with Heidi and Kim patrolling Alsace and the Rhineland, he had no choice but to continue northward."

"So this is really good news," Xander concludes. "Then, why not the Good News Face?," he asks Giles.

"There was a fifth vampire. A young woman. They chased and cornered her, at which point she turned into a raven and flew away." Well. That was something for them to chew on.

"A raven?," Gretchen asks.

"Tugba said raven. Collette said crow. They both agree it was a small black bird."

"Like Dracula," Buffy adds. "Except he turned into a bat."

"This is certainly most unusual," Giles states, confirming what the others suspected. Dawn, eager to contribute, recalls some of her reading.

"Vampires usually morph into bats and wolves. Witches turn into cats and owls."

"What about witches who get turned into vampires?," Xander asks. He finds the notion both queasy and arousing.

"Did they say what she looked like?," Gretchen asks. "As a human."

"Yes. She was tall and thin. With long black hair, dark eyes, and dark skin. Collette thought she looked Indian. Tugba said Iranian or Afghani."

"A gypsy!," Gretchen announces.

"Of course," Giles replies with a smile. "I don't know why that didn't occur to me."

"Because then you couldn't see the happy look on my face when I figured it out." Buffy finds their flirtations icky. Xander and Dawn think it's kinda cute. They're glad Giles has someone. And Dawn likes having Gretchen around, since Gretchen pays attention to her and treats her as a valued member of the team.

"A vampire gypsy witch who can fly," Buffy mulls over. "On the bright side, I probably don't have to worry about her killing me. Unless she tries to peck my eyes out."

"If we shoot her when she's in bird form, would she die?," Xander asks, going along with Buffy's joke.

"This is a serious matter," Giles cautions.

"No, being under house arrest is a serious matter," Buffy counters. "This is a may-be-serious-in-the-future matter."

"She killed two women Tugba and Collette were trying to save. And she got away. While she might not pose a danger to any Slayer – and by no means can we be sure of that – a vampire who can feed and ravage and rampage at will prove to be a quite painful thorn in our side. In the past six months we have achieved awful lot. Which means we have no choice but to set our sights even higher."

"Kill 'em all," Buffy remarks.

"Including the ones with wings," Xander adds.

Angel arrived at the office at 11:30 in the morning. Harmony walks through the door at noon. "You don't have to work today," a confused Angel tells her. "It's Saturday."

"And a lovely one. Too lovely to stay home."

"I don't have any work for you to do." She sits at her desk.

"That's okay. I'll just wait here. In case something comes up."

"You won't get paid."

"Not a problem." She starts painting her fingernails bright red. He ducks into his office, then pops his head out.

"Since you are here, can you tell Wesley and Gunn to come to my office?"

"What about Spikey?"

"He won't be needed."

"Tell me about it," Harmony responds with a smile. Angel shakes his head and goes into his office, mystified by her behavior. A few minutes later, Wesley walks out of the elevator, with Spike. Harmony stands up. "Spikey! I didn't know you'd be in today. What a pleasant surprise!," she enthuses as she walks up to him. Spike eyes her warily as she closes in to within a foot of him.

"Couldn't sleep. You too?"

Harmony giggles as she follow him towards Angel's door. "You know what's great when you can't get to sleep because your body's all filled up with energy and frustration?" Now Spike knows why her cheeks are so rosy and her eyes are so bright. It had been a long while since he'd seen that look on her face. He jumps back away from her.

"You shagged someone! A human, from the smell of it," he states with revulsion.

"Just because we're dead doesn't mean we can't have a life." Wesley walks into Angel's office.

"Up all night?," Angel asks, noticing Wesley's stubbly face and his unkept hair.

"Our prisoner has been quite forthcoming. In exchange for leniency, he has given up the identities of other participants in the werewolf racket. He's also described the relevant chemical formula, and our technicians are synthesizing it as I speak."

"Hopefully not for use."

"If we know what turns people permanently into werewolves, there's a chance we can discover something that permanently overrides the urge to transform."

"You're talking about a cure."

"It's an outside shot, but we'd be remiss not to take it."

"You're not jealous?," Harmony asks Spike.

"Like bloody hell. I wish you and, whoever, a happy future. Just try and remember not to bite him too hard. They do have a office policy around here."

"What did you do last night?"

"Business."

"Did you see Devlin? He wasn't at the party."

"Dev!?," a shock Spike exclaims. The elevator door opens and Gunn steps out. "You're putting in time with his merry band?" Spike laughs and shakes his head. "So this boy – the one you shagged - "

"You mean the one who rocked my world as you . . . occasionally, used to do?"

Spike rolls his eyes. "He's in high school." Spike laughs and shakes his head. "Slumming with the kiddies. You can do better," Spike says as he follows Charles into the office.

"What is he doing here?," Angel asks Gunn.

"What am I doing here? What are YOU doing here. You're the one who's contributing bloody nothing. Unless you count pretending to order people around as a job."

"Spike insisted on assisting with the interrogation," Wesley reluctantly reports.

"He goes monster and threatens to beat this guy up if he doesn't talk?," Angel asks with a laugh.

"I don't need to change. He finds me very intimidating as is."

"Fred's in the lab. That's going well," Angel recounts. "How are matters on the legal front?," he asks Gunn.

"That depends. I have pending matters on numerous legal fronts."

"Buffy."

"I'm making progress. It should be resolved before Monday. Do you want anything out of this?"

"What?"

"Dana. We can gain custody of her."

"She's not a pawn!"

"I know. She's a Slayer with a history of mental problems who suffers from delusions and hallucinations. We are far better equipped to help her than Buffy could ever be. It's about what's in this girl's best interests."

"She's wanted for murder."

"I can make that go away." Angel thinks this over for a few seconds.

"It would be too obvious. I'd look like I was making a power grab. Not to mention that it would only fuel Buffy's suspicions that I was behind this whole Slayer debacle."

"Very well. I'll see what I can do about getting the feds to drop kidnapping charges."

"Remember Charles, we're doing Buffy a favor; not ourselves."

"I got something. I got something!," Dawn announces Sunday afternoon, holding a book in her hands. She walks over to Giles and Gretchen. "It's in German, so I don't understand all of it, but it says Zigeuner,' which is the German word for Gypsy. It's about a Zigeuner child killer who punished the Germans for what they did to her people. There are some words here about what she did to their mothers that I can't make out."

"Let me see," Gretchen suggests. As she reads, she raises her eyebrows.

"That bad?," Giles asks.

"No. But strange. Very, very novel."

"Dawn - "

"Leave the room? No! I'm seventeen. What does it say? What did she do?," Dawn inquires with a curious smile.

Gretchen takes a deep breath. "According to this source, she tied the parents up and made them watch her kill the children. Then she untied the mother and, well, molested her. Had her way with her, I think. If the mother did not appear to be enjoying the encounter, her husband would be killed. If her husband did not appear to enjoy watching this display, he would be killed. The mother always survived. The father did as well, if he and his wife behaved accordingly." Gretchen closes the book and looks up. "That's why there's such a detailed record of her methods. There were always survivors to tell the tale."

"Fingers and tongue. Fingers and tongue," Dawn says to herself. "That's what it meant!" Rupert's happy Buffy's not here to witness this. "Jeta the lesbian vampire witch."

"Jeta?," Giles asks.

"That's what it said her name was on page 280."

Gretchen has a "Eureka" moment. "J-E-T-A?"

"Yeah. Like the car. But with one less T."

"You mean Yetta. The J is pronounced Y in Romani." Like Jana (Yana), Jenny's real first name. Gretchen wishes she hadn't inadvertently brought that up. "I've heard about a female Gypsy vampire who went by that name. She's something of a minor legend of the Second World War. In demonology circles, I mean."

"I can't say I heard of her," Giles confesses.

"She's not well-known in the English sources. Mostly Yiddish and Hebrew." Giles looks very confused. "She killed SS officers and soldiers by the hundreds. By the thousands, if you take the legend literally. She helped hundreds of Gypsies escape to Spain. And more than one hundred Jews. In Israel, the descendants of those she saved from the gas chambers refer to her as the Angel Of The Dark' or Night Angel'."

"You make her sound like a hero," Giles observes with revulsion.

"To those she saved, she is. To us, of course, she's a merciless killer. And, based on what Dawn says, to the Germans she's an agent of quasi-divine nemesis."

"I thoroughly object to your attempt to turn this demon into a folk hero."

"I'm not the one who did that!," Gretchen states with a laugh. "The reality of vampires and their depredations is pointless and cruel and depressing. People need to believe that their loved ones died for a reason," she knowingly explains. "Even if there isn't one. And Rupert, remember who she attacked: those who had lived through, supported and fought in the War. They felt too personally guilty to cast themselves as victims. Were the thousands of deaths Jeta caused any more vicious and vengeful than hundreds of thousands of deaths caused by the firebombing of Dresden and Munich?"

"Not wait just a bloody second. You can't be serious!" Munich had been bombed by the Brits, so Giles takes severe exception with her equating of Churchill to a vampire.

"From the victims' point of you, there was no difference. And in both cases, the victims couldn't complain. They didn't try to make people feel sorry for them. Because, at some level, they felt that they deserved it. The simplest way to deal with tragedy is to blame yourself."


	24. Taken for a ride

Gunn solves Buffy's problems. Harmony enjoys the fruits of her new alliance. Devlin's hacking gets Angel slapped. And a vampire refugee from the east coast makes her way west.

Just after Angel finishes his Saturday morning meeting with Gunn, Wes and Spike, Arthur Bolingbroke staggers into the lobby. He looks wretched. "Wesley. Old friend."

"Arthur? My God, what happened to you?"

"Haven't you heard? I'm a wanted man."

"You're the guy from Lakewood who sheltered the Slayers," Gunn realizes.

"Does that make you the fool who led them into that ambush?," Spike asks with a smile.

"He works for you?," Arthur asks Angel. "You pay this cretin?"

"Tough words from a man who looks like a street urchin."

"I've been hiding in the sewers. I can't go home."

"By the way, thanks for the gun," Spike blurts out. "It helped us catch a very bad man."

"My weapons! How did you - ?"

"We didn't," Spike replies, angering Angel.

"You really are with the enemy."

"That depends on what side of the line you work on," Wesley counters. "A spotter for the Council. You've really come far since your days as a journeyman demon hunter."

"From the looks of it, I'd say it's all been taken away," Spike jokes.

"You were there when they took Dana," Angel realizes.

"You think Andrew could come up with a plan like that?"

"Does that mean we shouldn't blame him for the fiasco the other night?," Wes asks.

"I don't who to blame."

"Start with yourself."

"Or you," Arthur replies, looking at Angel. "Someone had us under surveillance. I doubt it was those kids, because no one followed me. But they were ready. They knew when I'd arrive. Which means they knew when I left. Which means someone had to be watching my house. No, for you guys, that's not so hard."

"This line's getting tired," Angel declares. "If we were so good, why didn't we even know you had twelve Slayers in town the last time?"

"By the time you knew Dana was a Slayer, we had our troops on the ground. Debbie you knew about ahead of time. You'd met with her. You had a deal to protect her."

"You got your head handed to you by a bunch of second-rate opponents," Angel replies, offending Spike. "Accept it."

"Out of all the girls Buffy's sent for, you know how many didn't make the trip to Rome? One."

"Sounds like those vampires were quite first-rate," Spike remarks.

"No. They were just prepared."

"Why are you here Arthur?," Wes asks. "Do you expect us to give you protection?"

"It's not the police I'm scared of. It's those vampires. They know where I live. And they have guns."

"They didn't kill a single Slayer. Why would they kill you?," Angel asks.

"Because I'm the one who brought the Slayers. Without me, the Council's blind in this region."

"Clearly they put their faith in the wrong man," Gunn witheringly concludes.

"We got better things to do than protect an anxious small-time demon spotter," Angel tells Arthur.

"I'm not asking for protection. I want you to help me kill them."

"I'm a busy man. I have bigger things to worry about than taking out a few loser vamps who aren't even feeding."

"I know that you know where the leader lives. But I can tell you where the other three stay. We bust in during the day, it'll take like five seconds. I don't even need you. I can get the job done with Price and Gunn."

"And why should I help you?," Wes asks.

"I know things. You want an inside picture of goings-on at the new and improved Council, I can give it to you."

"My employees don't risk their lives for a few scraps of gossip," Angel tells Arthur.

"You don't think these vampires will come after you?"

"If they're dumb enough to try, we'll take care of them."

"How much you wanna bet they know where you live?," Arthur asks Wes and Gunn. "In case you haven't noticed, they aren't partial to fair fights. Sniping and ambushes, now that's more their style. You'll regret not striking them when you had the chance." Arthur walks towards to elevator.

"Leaving so soon?," Wesley asks mockingly. "I thought your life was in danger." Arthur turns around.

"We're all in danger. At least I'm alert to it." He leaves. Angel and friends found him a tad or two overdramatic. Devlin was hardly a clear and present danger to them.

Harmony wakes up shortly before sunrise on Sunday morning and begins to get dressed in Alex's bedroom. He hears her and wakes up. "Leaving so soon?"

"Early shift."

"Are you disappointed?"

"With you? No! Alex, you were great."

"You were, well, damn, I don't even know the words to do you justice." Harmony smiles. The best thing about Alex is how worshipful he is to her.

"That's what your friends are missing out on with high school girls: experience."

"It's more than that. Harmony, you're something else." She gets nervous. "Like the way you came in through my window."

"You left it open."

"We're on the second floor!"

"I do a lot of rock climbing."

"That doesn't even begin to explain it." There's her extraordinary strength, not to mention the fact that Alex has noticed her body feels a little cold. Also, she doesn't pant or catch her breath after sex.

"Do you want explanations or do you want a good time?"

"I'll choose blissful ignorance, thank you very much."

"Don't worry. I'll call." She kisses him, opens the window and leaps down to the ground. Alex quickly closes it and climbs back into bed, pretending to be asleep. His mother opens the door.

"Did you hear anything?"

"No."

"You father said he heard a loud bump. It woke him up."

"Guess I slept through it."

"You were up pretty late studying. Especially for a Saturday night."

"Yeah, well, I got behind in a few subjects."

"Try not to have the music on so loud next time."

"Sure. Sorry bout that. It . . . helped me study."

At two a.m., Monday morning in Rome, Gretchen walks into Buffy's living room, where she and Giles are waiting. "We're free."

"And the girls?," Buffy asks.

"They'll be on a plane home tomorrow morning."

Around the same time (five on Sunday afternoon), Gunn calls Angel's apartment to explain the details. "They'll even get Andrew back."

"I thought the police had him dead to rights?"

"They did. But I got them to let him walk. In exchange, he can't set foot in the United States for ten years."

"Exile. I didn't know they still used that punishment."

"Dana is now legally ours," Gretchen reports.

"Apparently, so is Andrew," Buffy jokes.

"Overcrowded prisons. A massive state budget deficit. Guess they didn't want to waste the expense on a man who's obviously not a threat."

"You vowed we'd be back in business come Monday, and you kept your word," Giles tells Gretchen with a smile.

"Do they know who was pulling the strings?," Angel asks.

"Not a clue. They think they pulled them," he replies with a laugh. "And they did. But we were the ones pushing from the other side."

"Buffy doesn't suspect we played a part?"

"They have no way of knowing who else was talking to Justice."

Buffy stands up. "Rona and Vi leave tomorrow morning," she says as she paces. "The injured Slayers arrive back tomorrow night. We need a place to keep them quarantined. Letting the other girls see them right away would hurt morale."

"How bout I get them hotel rooms," Gretchen suggests. "From one of those nice places that appreciates the fact that, thanks to us, their guests are no longer in danger."

"Word is bound to spread," Giles cautions.

"Words are one thing," Buffy explains. "The sight of maimed Slayers is far worse."

"I'm still trying to pinpoint the identities of the vampires who assaulted them," Giles pledges.

"Usually after something like this, the parties involved can't help but brag," Gretchen adds.

"We have plenty of Slayers in the states," Buffy points out. "Why can't we send them down there to clean house?"

"Because the vampires could always run," Giles replies. "Success breeds rashness. I say we wait for their next move before we pounce."

"Make THEM walk into the next ambush," Gretchen concludes. Giles smiles. Buffy looks at Gretchen suspiciously. She sees Gretch's comment as a back-handed dig at her leadership. What's more, she seems to be driving a wedge between Buffy and her Watcher. Giles is very fond of her. Especially now that he thinks she single-handedly cleaned up Buffy's mess in California and averted the biggest crisis in the fledgling Council's short history. In addition, she's very close to Dawn, and she's charmed Xander and Willow. Ever since the coup in Sunnydale, Buffy's kept her eyes out for traces of dissension and insubordination. I'm sure Devlin would appreciate it that his little sister is getting on Buffy's nerves. Of course, he wouldn't appreciate the fact that she's dedicated to wiping his kind off the planet. Sibling squabbles can be so ugly.

On Monday, around one in the afternoon, Harmony's phone at work rings. "Wolfram and Hart. How may I direct your call?"

"It's Devlin." Harmony smiles. "Don't say anything. Just listen and act natural." He knows talking like this will make her feel important. "In the closet in the employee's lounge, in the right pocket of your red coat, is a piece of paper. In the left pocket is an stamped, addressed envelope. When you leave work today, don't put your hands in the pockets until you're out of the building and across the street. Once you're clear, place the paper in the envelope, seal it and drop it in the nearest mailbox. Don't look at the paper. Don't read it. That way, in case you're caught, you won't know anything. Goodbye, Harmony. And good luck." Devlin hangs up and laughs at his faux-cloak-and-dagger routine. Harmony hangs up and smiles. A secret mission! This was exciting. At least, compared to the rest of her drab, repetitive routine.

Devlin wanted the addresses of the vampires who had tried to kill Debbie with the werewolf. One of his moles stole a piece of notepaper off of Wesley's desk while he was at a meeting. Another one copied the paper. A third returned the original note to Wesley's desk. A fourth wrote Devlin's address on the envelope and put on a stamp. A fifth took the copy of the note and the envelope to Harmony, who was his sixth inside operative. This may seem unnecessarily complicated, but Devlin made it a team effort for three reasons: he knew each one of them would get a rush out of being part of something secret, he knew that it was best to keep each person's job short and simple, and he knew it was important to keep them in the dark, lest they feel the urge to squeal. Only two of the six knew that the stolen info came from Wesley's desk, and none of them knew what it concerned. Also, because Devlin used a series of drops, none of the six knew who the others were. This points to a fourth reason: Devlin was bored. Concocting elaborate plans was one way to pass the time.

At four in the afternoon, Fred steps out of the elevator and quickly makes her way to Angel's office. She looks furious. "He's on the phone," Harmony cautions. Fred pays no heed and bursts on in. Angel sees the fury in her eyes.

"Look, something just came up. I'll call you back. What's wrong, Fred?" Fred marches up to Angel and slaps his face hard with her right hand, leaving finger and palm marks. "What was that for?"

"Don't play dumb. It doesn't suit you. Lecherous and lustful, on the other hand, well we know you're more-than-capable of that."

"What the hell are you talking about?" She slaps him again. "Ow!" Angel was at a loss. Had she found out about the Connor memory-erasing spell? "Do Gunn and Wesley know?"

"Oh, you're lucky they don't. Because when Charles and Wesley find out – well, especially Wesley – you'll be in BIG trouble."

"Fred, what I did, what I may have done to each of you, I had my reasons. I hope you can try and see things from my point of view." Fred goes to slap him a third time. Angel grabs her right wrist. "Enough with the slapping!"

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about protecting the people I love." Fred gets a very confused look on her face. She slams a piece of paper she was holding in her left hand down onto Angel's desk.

"Tell me which sentence talks about protecting the people you love." Now Angel looks completely confused. He picks up the page, starts reading, and is aghast.

"Fred . . . Fred . . . I didn't write this. I would never, ever - "

"You hired someone else to write your employee evaluations?"

"This is NOT your evaluation! My God! Fred, how could you think I would be capable of writing something so, pornographic?"

"I didn't. Until I called human resources. They said it came from your computer." Fred moves around to the other side of the desk and does a search on Angel's hard drive. "There it is!!!" She kicks him in the groin with her right foot. "Explain this!"

Angel limps over to the screen. "I can't. Fred, I didn't write this. I swear to you. Someone must have snuck in when I was away."

"Figured out your screen-saver password."

"I guess."

"Figured out your employee password that allowed you to submit this to H.R. via the network."

"I guess."

"And done nothing else to the network. Such as, say, embezzle funds, erase files, shut down the mainframe."

"Apparently."

"Like a car thief who steals a Porsche just to drive it around the parking lot for a couple minutes."

"I don't know what to say. I didn't write this."

"Then how do you explain - ?"

"I can't. I'm sorry. I can't." He reads the next paragraph. "Oh God! This is sickening. Fred, you know me. You know I would never, ever, think – much less write – these things." He puts the page down, turns round to look out the window, and tries to collect himself.

"Angel, if there's something you wanna tell me, something you need to get off your chest, I won't get mad."

"Fred, you're a very attractive, very beautiful woman. But I've never been attracted to you. Not in this way."

"Not even when I kissed you?"

"That was only to keep us from getting seen."

"That may be. But you still seemed a little weak-kneed afterwards."

"What the hell do you want me to say? First you're furious because this forgery says," he picks up the page "my heart smolders for you . . . with a yearning, burning, churning desire – see, I'm not even a Cole Porter fan. That's a dead giveaway. And now, apparently, you're mad because I DON'T have these sorts of feelings for you."

"I'm sorry. Maybe I'm not sounding completely logical. This sorta thing popped up in my mailbox, and I kinda lost it. Anyone would. Imagine if I wrote something like this to you." Angel's still holding the paper in his right hand, and he starts to squeeze it as he balls his hand into a fist before quickly snapping out of it.

"Fred, let's assume, for the sake of argument, that I was irresistibly attracted to you.' Why would I express it in a business memo read by complete strangers? The only reason I would do that is if I wanted to subject myself to office ridicule and – who all has seen this?" Lorne bursts in, holding out a packet.

"Angel-kins - I love it! This is just what I needed to brighten an otherwise dreary day." Fred makes a fist and glares at Lorne. "I sense rage and deep disgust."

"It's this memo," Angel tries to explain.

"I know!," Lorne responds. "Everyone in my office is raving about it." Fred looks mortified. Angel takes the memo out of Lorne's hands. Lorne takes the one out of Angel's hands.

"It's a different memo," Angel notes.

"I'll say," Lorne concurs, raising his eyebrows. "When you say you're evaluating someone's body of work, you really mean it."

"I didn't write that! Or this."

"Well isn't he a modest mouse. You won't even take credit for your good ideas."

"What good idea?," Fred asks.

"Ambrosia. The new bar downstairs. Okay, the name's still subject to change."

"There's no bar downstairs."

"Not yet. But we're already contracting for the job. This thing is going to be huge."

Angel flips through the pages. "This is not my work. It's a forgery."

"Well then lie and say it's yours, cause it's a damn good forgery."

"A bar and club on the first floor. You think that's a good idea?"

"My club reborn! And this time it'll be safe. Who's gonna have the moxie to bomb Wolfram & Hart?" Fred takes a look at the proposal.

"Oh, here's the giveaway. Angel doesn't know how to use Powerpoint," she jokes. "Ah guess we are wasting a lotta space down there."

"Check out the bullet points on page twelve," Lorne suggests.

"Keep the employees here and encourage them to work longer hours. Entertain prospective clients." Fred looks excited. "Can you really get major pop stars to perform!? Which ones?"

"You should see my client list."

"I don't believe it. Someone's impersonating me."

"Two fake letters. It doesn't make sense," Fred declares. "One of 'em's trying to get you slapped. The other's trying to get you praised."

"Someone's hacked into my computer and written memos in my name," Angel explains to Lorne. Fred searches for Lorne's document, and finds it on Angel's desktop.

"Here it is."

"Who would do this?"

"Devlin," Fred realizes. He's got the computer skills. And the unhealthy, stalker-like attraction to Fred.

"Our new vampire pest?," Lorne asks. "For gosh sakes Angel, why don't you just hire the boy and get it over with?"

"That's not funny."

"He clearly wants to help. And better to have him inside the tent pissing out than outside the tent pissing in."

"What if he's inside the tent, pissing in?," Angel asks.

"It's clearly a cry for attention."

"He really went to a lot of effort on this proposal," Fred observes.

"Now you're defending the guy who made you slap me?," Angel wonders.

"Okay, he's warped. But since when is that a disqualification for employment around here? It's not like he'd be working full-time. We could make him a consultant. Bring him in when he'd be useful."

"He's evil! And he's at war with Buffy."

"Because he has too much time on his hands," Lorne counters.

"Maybe this is his way of trying to get Spike's attention," Fred suggests. Angel rolls his eyes. "Ah'm serious! They had a very close relationship. He probably just wants to work again with his sire again."

"So he can stake Spike in the back." Angel thinks this might not be so awful. "Or, stake me in the back. He's a trickster. A con man."

"Who helped us save a few lives the other night," Fred reminds him.

"Debbie helped us save a few lives. Devlin was just along for the ride." Fred shakes her head. "I can't believe you're on his side. After what he wrote!"

"I don't want him around any more than you. The boy creeps me out." She shivers. "But assigning him some field work couldn't hurt."

"You could make it dangerous, life-threatening field work if you want," Lorne suggests, trying to play on Angel's negative feelings towards Dev.

"He has someone on the inside. We need to find out who."

"And what better way to keep an eye on someone than to hire them," Lorne responds.

"Do to him what Wolfram & Hart is trying to do to us?"

"Exactamundo!"

"Except that Wolfram & Hart won't succeed."

"Which doesn't mean you won't," Fred offers. "You're smarter that Lilah and Eve and the rest of 'em, and Devlin's not as smart as you."

"I'm forced to deal with plenty of evil people every day. I'm not about to let any more in my life by choice."

Elektra stands on the shoulder of a two-lane road in central Pennsylvania late in the afternoon, nervously eyeing the cloudy sky. She is tall, in her late teens, with long light-brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. Elektra wears low-cut jeans and cut-off t-shirt to show off her stomach and her belly piercing. A car zooms towards her, and she sticks her right thumb out as she walks backwards. It passes her by, as do the next four. She glances again at the sky. Elektra steps out into the road, in the path of a blue pickup truck, smiling and leaning back slightly, a mixture of eager flirtation and languorous ennui. Her heart wasn't in it, but the men were always too stupid or self-centered to notice. The truck stops. Inside are two young men in their late-twenties. She smiles and hops up and down. "Thank you. Thank you so much! I've been out here for hours. Ever since the last guy dropped me off. See, he was only going to Altoona. But I need to get back to College Park. Are you going there?"

They look at each other. "It's on the way," the driver responds.

"Cool!" The passenger side door opens, and she climbs in between the men. "Do you need gas? I can chip in for gas."

"That's okay. We're fine."

"Thank you so much. I don't know how I can repay you."

"Don't worry 'bout it." The driver starts down the road.

"Are you a student?," the passenger asks.

"Yeah."

"What do you study?"

"Human nature." She puts her left foot on the brake, pulls the emergency brake, grabs the driver's throat with her left hand and throttles him.

"What the fuck!," the passenger yells. Elektra turns to face him. She's got her fangs out. "Holy shit!" She grabs his hair with her right hand and bites him in the neck. As she drains the passenger, the driver slowly stops struggling. She lets go of both of them when they're dead, goes back to her human face, licks her upper lip and scowls.

"I hate biting through stubble." She takes off the emergency brake, puts her foot on the accelerator and drives a little ways forward. After taking their wallets, she opens the passenger door and drops both bodies in a gulley before driving away. She flips through the fm dial, but can't find any decent stations. "Goddam middle of goddam nowhere," she mutters, picking up her phone and trying to make a call. "Regan? Regan, can you here me? It's Leks! I'm out in the freakin' boonies! Where are you? Albany? No, no, no, don't go to Montreal. It's not safe. Trust me, I've been. Where am I going? Nowhere in particular. Just living off the land. Maybe I'll swing by Chicago. You think they're there, too? Fuck! Slayers ruin the entire shore, and now they won't even give us flyover country. You calling me chicken? Listen Regan, just cause both my parents killed Slayers doesn't mean I can. And they never killed two at once. Believe me," Elektra adds with a sigh as she shakes her head.


	25. Bring in your dead

At the Fisher Funeral Home in Los Angeles, Rico, an undertaker, is in the basement, preparing to embalm a man who died in his late twenties. He puts in one needle to drain the blood, and another to pump in the embalming fluid. When he inserts the second needle into the corpse's skin, the eyes open, and it sits up. Rico, a short, light-skinned Chicano, jumps back in horror. His wife just kicked him out, his life is falling apart, he hasn't been getting much sleep, so this must be a hallucination. Or a nightmare. The naked corpse rips the needles out of its arms and stands up. It turns, sees Rico, growls and charges. Rico yells for help. The corpse pushes him into the wall, puts its right hand around his neck and starts choking him, lifting Rico's feet off the floor. This is no nightmare. He struggles desperately to break free, and wheezes for breath. He is finally able to grab a scalpel with his left hand and drive it into the corpse's right forearm. He growls and backs up. Rico sinks to the floor, grabs his throat, gasps for breath and stares up at the living corpse, who seems to have grown very large teeth and developed swelling on its forehead. Also, its eyes have turned yellow. This was not covered in any manual.

The monstrous corpse runs to the door and opens it. Ruth Fisher, a tall, thin woman in her fifties, is doing the laundry. "Rico, is that, aaaiiiiggghhh!!!" The monster runs at her. She throws her basket of clothes on its head, and it trips and falls. She runs up the stairs screaming. Rico staggers out of the embalming room in time to see her close the basement door.

"Mrs. Fisher! Mrs. Fisher!! Mrs. Fisher!!!" The animated corpse is between Rico and escape. She reluctantly opens the door.

"Rico? Rico, what is going on?"

"I need help! Get Nate and David!! The corpse turns and faces Rico. Ruth grabs her new husband's precious Persian table from the kitchen and hurls it down the stairs, hitting the vampire in the back. Rico runs past the fallen vampire, who grabs his left ankle. Rico steps on the hand with his right foot and breaks free. He races up the stairs, closing the door behind him. "Mrs. Fisher." He embraces her.

"Rico, you're welcome." They hear the vampire banging on the door. Ruth screams. Both of them put their backs to the door and try to hold it shut. Nate Fisher rushes over to them. He is tall, in his early thirties, with floppy, boyish light brown hair and slight stubble on his chin.

"Mom, I heard screaming. Rico, what the hell are you doing?"

"It's alive. It's alive!" The vampire bangs his shoulder into the door.

"What is alive?"

"Mister Peterson."

"I'm not in the mood for jokes. I don't even want to be here." The vampire puts his fist through the door.

"Apparently, neither does Mister Peterson," Ruth replies. David, Nate's younger brother, comes over. He is short and seriously-looking, with thinning hair. He wears a well-tailored, dark three button suit, and looks constipated.

"Can somebody please tell me what all the commotion is about?"

"Your corpse tried to kill me!," his mother explains. "For God's sakes, get some furniture over here to hold the door." Despite her hysterical outbursts, she's by far the most resourceful and effective person on the scene. Slaying has always been woman's work.

"What are you hiding? Mom, please step away from the door."

"Not on your life!"

"She really means it, David," Rico concurs. The vampire now grabs the table Ruth threw at him and uses it as a battering ram, breaking off large chunks of the door.

"Will you help me!?," she implores.

"Why did I agree to come back here?," Nate wonders.

"Who are you keeping down there?," David asks.

"I just told you!," Rico screams. "Eliot Peterson!!" More chunks of the door are broken off. Ruth and Rico must retreat. The naked vampire emerges.

"What the fuck happened to him?," David asks.

"Ya got me," Rico responds as the four of them retreat into the kitchen. Just then, George Sibley, Ruth's new husband, comes in from his afternoon run. He is a tall thin man in his early sixties with wispy gray hair.

"What's the commotion? Vampires!! Everyone outside!" He grabs Ruth and pulls her out. Rico and David follow. The vampire grabs hold of Nate, but George and Rico pull his into the sunlight, and the vampire retreats with a burnt hand. George hugs Ruth. "Thank God you're safe."

"Did you just say vampire?," Nate asks, looking at George as if the old man were insane.

"What do you think was attacking you?," he retorts, looking at Nate as if the young man was denying reality.

"Rico, what the hell happened?," David asks.

"I was just about to begin draining Mister Peterson when he got up and attacked me."

"Corpses do not get up and attack people," David responds.

"Did you see his face?," Ruth ask.

"Embalming kills vampires," George explains.

"I can't believe I'm listening to this bullshit," Nate responds.

"Did he happen to die from a stab wound' to the neck?"

"Yes," David answers. "But this is ludicrous. Vampires do not exist."

"Then go back in there and tell that to Mister Peterson," George retorts. "When did he die?"

"Three days ago," David responds.

"That's more than enough time for gestation. After two days, they'll often wake up when threatened."

"George, how do you know this?," Ruth asks. Her new husband does have a habit of hiding parts of his past.

"I've read about this sort of thing. It's quite common. Especially in this city. There are professional demon hunters who take care of infestations for a fee. They're listed in the phone book."

"Why don't we just call the police?," Ruth asks.

"Because they'd hang up on you cause you'd sound like a fucking wacko," Nate responds.

"There has to be a reasonable explanation for this," David maintains. "We have a naked madman who took Mister Peterson's place on the table. Rico, you'd never seen him before, so you wouldn't have known."

"He was cold. And not breathing."

"I'm calling Keith." David takes out his cell phone to dial up his boyfriend.

"And what about the rest of us?," Nate asks. "Are we locked out of our own fucking home?"

"Sunlight will kill him," George explains. "It's our best protection." He looks up. "Until it sets."

Keith answers his phone. He is a well-built black man in his late twenties, with a bald head and a mustache and goatee. "Keith, you have to come to the funeral home. It's an emergency."

"I'm on a job."

"This is a little more important than walking Celeste's dog." Celeste is a pop star Keith is helping to guard. He is a former member of the LAPD. "There's a crazy man inside the house. He attacked us."

"Okay David, slow down. I know you're going through some stuff because of the attack. Just relax." A few weeks earlier, David was carjacked for several hours at gunpoint, brutally beaten, doused with gasoline, and terrorized in numerous other ways. The horrible trauma only heightened his need for a protector, a hero, a champion to keep him safe and to comfort him at night.

"It's not just me!" He hands the phone to his mother.

"Keith. It's Ruth. The man was awful. He nearly killed me and Rico. We can't go back inside."

"Have you called the police?"

"Let me handle this," George says, grabbing the phone. Ruth hates it when he's bossy. "We are dealing with a vampire. Everyone here knows that, though some of us are still in denial. But we all saw its teeth, its eyes, its monstrous face. We all witnessed how the sunlight burned its hand. So be prepared. Don't come here unless you're carrying a cross and a wooden stake.

Keith hangs up. "Fucking crazy family." David immediately calls back. "Is this your idea of a practical joke?"

"I swear to you Keith, This is no joke. I'm fucking serious. Something very dangerous is in there."

"A vampire?" Keith laughs. "I knew a detective who got booted off the force because she believed in those. It's just a way explaining the unexplainable. Some crimes are so horrible, we like to think they couldn't have been committed by human beings. It's classic scapegoating."

"I am not fucking scapegoating!"

"You're buying this vampire bullshit?"

"No. But I do believe there is something inside this house that the five of us alone cannot deal with. And God forbid a few prospective clients walk in." He rushes around front. This is his worst nightmare: grieving relatives killed at his funeral home. The publicity would be fatal to their business.

"Right now we're just buying time," George declares. He starts ripping branches off a tree.

"George! Don't destroy that tree. David planted that for Claire on her tenth birthday." He holds a five foot-tall branch upwards and crosses it with a two foot-tall branch. Nate laughs.

"You can't be serious. We're gonna drive that maniac away with God?" After the calamities that have befallen him, especially the recent suicide of his wife, the already cynical Nate can't help but deny God's existence.

"A vampire cannot enter a home uninvited."

"Hello! He's already inside," Nate points out.

"Not the living quarters. And we can't give him the run of your first floor. He could easily set in on fire to try to draw you back in. Or simply trash the place."

"We're going in?," Ruth asks.

"Follow me."

"And if this God Almighty crap doesn't work, what then?," Nate asks.

"He'll kill one of us, and the others can escape while he's draining the body."

"And you'll be in the lead?," Nate asks with a grin. Like the rest of Ruth's children, he's not crazy about the new stepdad. David comes back.

"The rest of you should also make crosses," George suggests.

"What did I miss?," David asks.

"George here is playing Van Helsing," Nate jokes to his kid brother. Ruth grabs Nate's arm.

"You are coming inside. I am not letting my house get ransacked by some maniac." George gets in front, followed by Ruth, then Rico, with Nate and David bringing up the rear.

"Things just get weirder every day around here," Nate comments to his brother. George marches forward and opens the door. Once he steps out of the light, the vampire leaps at him, but cowers before the cross. "I don't fucking believe this," Nate says with astonishment. Ruth opens the windows and the vampire retreats into the entrance hall. George slowly steps forward. Ruth runs for the bay window. The vampire grabs her around the waist, but she gives him a quick left elbow to the nose, and he lets go long enough for her to pull back the curtains and flood that half of the room with light. George tries to force the vampire out of the room, but he snarls, reaches out and pulls away the man's sticks. The hungry vampire leaps on top of his victim.

"George!," Ruth calls out, grabbing a vase and smashing it over the vampire's head, then pulling on his hair to get his fangs off her husband.

"When did mother turn into Xena?," David asks Nate. Rico takes off the crucifix around his neck and presses it into the vampire's left cheek, causing him to flee into the chapel and pull shut the sliding doors. Ruth opens all the shades before rushing over to help George to his feet.

"Are you all right, honey?"

"I'm fine. It's just a scratch," he replies, embarrassed that he had to be rescued by his wife.

"What do we do now?," David asks.

"We go on with our lives, and wait until sundown," George intones.

"Bullshit," Ruth interjects. Her children are surprised to hear her swear. "That thing is not invincible, and I will not let it hold my life hostage. We can draw it into the sunlight in the front hall. We can open the door and try to push it out onto the porch. There are five of us. If we work together, it doesn't have a chance."

"I think you're right, Ruth," George responds. "But I also think there's a high probability it could kill one of us."

"Which one?," Nate asks with a devilish grin.

"What do we tell the Petersons?," David asks. "Hi, your dead son's running around attacking us. See you at the funeral tomorrow, when, hopefully, he'll be on his best behavior."

"I hate this business," Nate gripes. Everyone sits down and waits. Nate and David go into the living room, open the shades and turn on the television.

"Should we lock the doors?," David asks.

"Why?," Nate wonders. "Eliot doesn't seem too eager to leave."

"So people think we're closed. How are we going to explain this to prospective customers? We can't show them the chapel. We can't show them the coffins. And a crazy guy's making all sorts of noise."

"I wonder if he's sleeping in one of the display coffins?" They both laugh, until they realize they're joking about a vampire as if it's real.

"This is so fucked up."

"Completely fucked up."

Deb and Dev sit in front of the television in the living room as she eats dinner. "Have you had anything to drink today?," she asks.

"I had something this morning."

"You're not hungry?"

"I can go long stretches without feeding. I once went dry for eight days, just to prove to Spike that it could be done."

"You're like a camel vamp," she jokes.

"Except prettier, and better smelling. I hope."

"I do too. So what do we have planned for tonight?"

"Nothing."

"Isn't there something we should kill?"

"You need to do homework. Also, I'm still trying to find the remaining hideouts in San Diego."

"So you get to go have fun while I have to work?," she complains. After last week's multiple thrills of the Slayers' visit and their collaboration with Angel, domestic routine has returned for this couple.

"I won't be killing anything. And you wouldn't get the chance. The ones who are left know what you look like. And they're smart enough to run away."

"So we ambush them."

"If I could find where they live. Even then, they could escape to the sewers. We need your friends."

"How will they help?"

"As bait." She looks shocked.

"You are NOT using my friends as bait!"

"We'll pop out and save them before they get hurt. These vamps are alert. The only way to kill them is the catch 'em in the act. You think your friends will mind?"

"Actually, I think they'll get off on the danger. Which is the scary part."

"Hopefully we can take care of San Diego before Friday. Because that's when we're going to Las Vegas."

"What!?"

"You know we have to kill those vampires who put a hit out on you. I decided we should make a weekend of it."

"Do you know where to find them? Cause I'm not wasting a weekend walking up and down the Strip."

"I should have the names and addresses by tomorrow. Since the bastard's probably got friends and cronies, we'll need to take the whole gang. You don't think your friends would mind?," he asks sarcastically.

It's been more than an hour. Everyone's getting tired of waiting, knowing that a vampire is stewing thirty feet away. Rico looks at his cross. "That thing physically burnt the guy?," Nate asks.

"Yeah."

"Does that mean Christians are right? What does that say about other religions."

"They all have protective talismans," George reports.

"So the Unitarians and the Bahai are right?," David asks.

"It's only magic. That these objects work in no way proves the existence of a deity."

"Now you're an expert on magic?," Ruth asks.

"I'm hardly an expert. I've merely read a few things."

"So now we're also supposed to believe in magic?," Nate asks. "In addition to believing in men who rise from the dead and don't like sunlight."

"I believe they're called vampires," his mother replies.

"Yes, I know what they're called. I just didn't want to say it because it makes us sound either really crazy, or really gullible."

"How else can you explain what has happened?"

"I'll admit, strange things can happen." Recently, he thought his dead wife had been reincarnated as a talking dog. "But why should they fit some pre-conceived fairy tale version of reality? So the dead may come back to life. Why the fuck would they follow the rules set down in some Hollywood movie?"

"The folkloric version of vampirism is quite different from that prevalent in popular culture," George begins.

"I'm sorry, but I really don't need a lecture right now," he tells the college professor.

"Rather than being immortal and dashing, they are portly, usually live for only a few months, and attack those they knew in life."

"Can you shut up?"

"Nathan, please," he mother says. "I know we're all getting a bit testy."

"I was only trying to explain that Eliot Peterson might make a run for it when the sun goes down and attack his family."

"Good," Rico replies. "Then he doesn't kill us."

"Bad," David counters. "His family members are the ones paying us." Keith enters. David runs over and embraces him.

"Honey, I'm home," Keith jokes.

"You have no idea what we've been through."

"It's okay. Now where's the punk?"

"It's not that simple," Ruth cautions.

"You're dealing with an individual far stronger than yourself," George explains. "And you'll need this." He hands Keith a wooden stake he whittled out of a tree branch.

"This is a joke, right?"

Rico points to his neck wound, and to George's. "This ain't no joke."

"Whatever."

"He's sequestered himself in the chapel," George reports.

"Be careful," David warns.

"Try to draw him out here, into the light," Ruth requests. Keith chuckles.

"Whatever. Let's see what I'm dealing with." He opens the sliding doors. "What the fuck!?"

"That pretty much sums it up," Nate quips. Keith ducks a right hook, then lands a right cross and a left jab. The vampire counters with a left cross than staggers Keith, who wasn't expecting such a powerful blow. The vampire grabs Keith and throws him into the middle of the chapel. He crashes down, shattering several chairs. As the vampire runs over, Keith hits him in the stomach with a right uppercut while still on one knee. He stands and lands a left hook. The vampire counters with a right hook that sends Keith into the wall. He bites the right side of Keith's neck, but Ruth, who entered the room, breaks a chair over the vampire's back. It turns around. She's holding the stake Keith discarded in her right hand.

"Come and get me, you bastard." The vampire lunges. Ruth raises her stake. Keith grabs the vampire from behind and throws him across the room. Ruth grabs his left wrist and helps him out of the room. The vampire attacks, as the shifting shadows have made part of the entrance hall habitable for him. Ruth, David and Keith rush halfway up the stairs. The vampire is stopped by an invisible barrier at the edge of the staircase. He turns to his right and tries to attack Rico and George, who open the door and retreat into the light of the entryway. Unable to reach any prospective victims, the vampire leaps up, grabs the ceiling with its hands, and retreats like a spider back into the chapel, leaving the door open. George and Rico race onto the stairs. Keith lies down, and David tends to his injuries.

"I'm okay, David. Can't say the same for your mom. What's gotten into her?"

"Whatever it is, I love it," George declares with a big smile on his face. "You were amazing."

"So now you notice," she jokes with a sneer. David and Nate don't know what's worse, their mom's warrior persona, or how turned on it makes George. David goes upstairs, gets a towel and brings it down to put on the wound on Keith's neck.

"Looks like that cop wasn't as crazy as everyone said she was," Keith realizes.

"You've come around to accepting the obvious," George condescendingly notes.

"I accept that there's a strong, scary-looking guy with big teeth just a few feet away who wants to kill us."

"Sunset's in a half-hour," George notes pessimistically.

"What are we going to do?," Rico asks.

"I'll tell you what I was going to do," Ruth offers. "I was going to stake that vampire through the heart before Keith threw him out of my way."

"I saved you!"

"No Keith. I saved you." George grins lustily.

"He can't harm us in our bedroom."

"Oh give it a rest, George"

"It's okay Keith," Rico offers. "She saved my life, too."

"I don't think I've felt this emasculated since high school," David confesses to his brother Nate.

"Women just handle stress better than man," Ruth theorizes. "We rise to the challenge of protecting our offspring."

"I don't know if I've ever felt this emasculated," Nate says to his brother. "I wonder if all women react this way." He recalls the bar fight in which he got his ass kicked. Except now, Brenda – his tempestuous on-and-off lover – enters the saloon and beats the shit out of the big dumb bruiser who was pounding on Nate. He grins, totally turned-on, not realizing this is exactly what George is thinking about his own mom.

"I was just thinking about what would happen if one of these things attacked Celeste," Keith reports.

"You think she'd rise to the occasion?," David asks.

"Nah. I don't think she has it in her."

"We're runnin' outta time." Rico reminds them.

"I need to get a phone book," George says.

"It's in the kitchen," Ruth notes. "Which means you'll have to cross that strip of shadow. I'll get it." She walks down the stairs and stares down the vampire. He leans back and forth, as if about to pounce, but lets her pass by. "That's what I thought," she says to the monster. When Ruth returns, George flips through the Yellow Pages, while Keith takes the white pages.

"Here it is," Keith announces.

"A law firm?," David asks.

"A law firm that's involved in some freaky shit. I know a few guys who've done security for them. They're our best shot."

"Harmony, cancel my seven o'clock," Angel announces.

"It's just one measly vampire."

"It's not just one measly vampire. It's six human lives that need protecting."

"It's that Help The Helpless crap again. Fine. Have fun playing hero. Is anyone else coming along?"

"Wesley, Charles and Fred all have work to do."

"Because they have real jobs. Like me. And, apparently, not like you."

As Angel's driving there. Things get more complicated. Soon after the sun sets, a second vampire kicks in the front door. The two vamps make themselves at home in the sitting room, as the Fishers cower up on the landing. Angel calls. Ruth answers. She explains this new development.

"It's probably his sire."

"Wonderful. Now we're just not fighting one monster. We're fighting a family of monsters."

"You don't have to do any fighting, ma'am. That's my job."

"Don't call me ma'am!"

"I'm sorry."

"Well you should be. And frankly, I'm not sure you can take care of matters on your own."

"I've done this plenty of times before."

"You men are all alike. You leap into the fight full of macho fury, and end up needing a woman to save your chesnuts from the fire."

"Just sit tight, I'll be there in ten minutes, tops." He hangs up. "I see she's familiar with the concept of Slayers," Angel jokes to himself.


	26. You Never Can Tell

"When is Claire coming home?," a worried Ruth asks.

"Pretty soon," David guesses.

"Hopefully not too soon," Nate adds. They wait eight agonizing minutes. Having spent the last hour or so whittling stakes and finding as many crosses as they could get their hands on, they are ready to help Angel, or rescue Claire. Ruth is especially anxious to save her baby. Angel parks in their driveway, and sees a young woman walking to the door.

"Stay back!," he calls out.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"It's not safe to go in there."

"You wanna know something? It never is." She walks up the stairs to the porch. Spike zooms in from out of nowhere and parks on their lawn.

"What are you doing here?," Angel asks.

"I got the message. Figured you were too busy to save people. Bloody hell," Spike says as he watches Claire open the door. Elliot's sire grabs her and spins Claire around. She screams. Spike leaps inside and puts the vampire on his back with a right hook before his fangs can touch her neck. She tries to stop hyperventilating. She was attacked, then saved by a whirling ball of blonde hair and black leather jacket. What a rush. Angel enters and engages Elliot. Spike and he both go bumpy as they fight. Spike leaps on his opponent and wails away. Angel uses a more controlled approach, blocking Elliot's blows and landing his own, easily taking control of the fight. Ruth runs in between the combatants and embraces and comforts Claire.

"It's okay, baby. Mommy's here." How does that make it okay?, Claire thinks to herself. What made it okay was that white-haired knight. Claire turns around to watch Spike do battle. Such ferocity. Such passion. For a moment, she forgot all about Edie. Pretty soon, Spike knocks his opponent onto his back and stakes him. Angel throws Elliot's back into the chapel door and stakes him. The onlookers gasp as the two vampires turn to dust.

"What the fuck is going on!?," Claire asks, completely bewildered.

"Do you people always swear this much?," Angel wonder.

"There were only two of them, right?," Spike asks. He looks at Claire. "You okay?" She shrieks. Her family backs up the stairs away from Angel, except for Ruth, who's with Claire.

"It's a trick!," George announces.

"You picked the wrong family to prey on," Ruth tells Angel before hitting him with a right hook. He grabs his jaw. The punch was harder than he expected. But what hurt Angel more was the hostility from the people he came to help. Ruth looks at Spike. "And you! You get the hell away from my daughter."

"Women!," Spike says with a smile, hoping the girl takes after her tough mum. Spike sees Angel return to his human face. "Am I? Oh!" He switches back. "How bloody embarrassing." This doesn't put the family at ease.

"It's okay," Angel announces. "You can come down." He steps towards the stairs and hits the invisible barrier. "Hey Spike, check this out." Angel had never seen a barrier that was not at a doorway. "We're good vampires," he assures the family.

"With souls," Spike adds.

"But I had a soul first. More than one hundred years before he did."

"Wolfram & Hart sent you?," Keith asks.

"I'm the CEO." They look mystified. He hands Ruth a business card.

"Are you a lawyer, Mister . . . Angel?"

"No. It's a long story." George's eyes get big and he walks down the stairs.

"Are you Angelus?"

"Angel. I used to be Angelus." David and Keith look at each other. The name change thing sounds really gay to them. They stare at Angel and smile.

"Angelus is one of the most legendary vampires of modern times," George tells Ruth.

"How do you know this, George?"

"My second wife specialized in late nineteenth-century literature. Were you the inspiration for a Baudelaire poem?"

Angel smiles bashfully. "Well I, don't like to brag."

"You were friends with Toulouse LaTrec and Auguste Renoir."

"I traded poetry with Rimbaud," a snippy Spike feels compelled to reveal.

"And he hated your work," Angelus pointed out.

"Well you liked it. And that wusn't my point. I hung with Rimbaud, and then a hundred years later I talked about Rimbaud with Patti Smith, who idolized the bloke. Angel here stopped being culturally clued-in when the Rat Pack broke up."

"I'm sorry, who are you?," George asks, infuriating Spike.

"Spike."

"Doesn't ring a bell. Wait. Yes, I do remember that name." Spike looks pleased. "You were Angelus's longtime ingenue." Spike does not look pleased.

"Like bloody hell! I wus always my own man. Carrying this old bag of bones halfway across the Old World only slowed me down."

"They really go at it like two old queens," David whispers to Keith.

"One of my ex-wife's former colleagues mentioned you in a paper. Were you the inspiration for Dorian Gray?" Spike does not like George.

"Actually, that rumor was started by Oscar Wilde," Angel – who does like George – reports. "Oscar and I were friends, but he didn't care for Spike. So he came up with the story that Spike was Dorian. With Spike being a vampire, it worked perfectly. However, Oscar didn't meet Spike until after the book was published."

"You knew Oscar Wilde?," David asks, walking down the stairs towards Angel.

"Stop!," Claire orders. "Can someone please tell me what the fuck just happened?"

"Elliot Peterson rose from the dead," Ruth calmly explains to her daughter.

"You people do realize it's a little early for Halloween."

"I know it's hard to believe. I suppose you had to see it to believe it."

"Or felt it," Rico says, pointing to his neck. Claire looks around, noticing the many injuries. For instance, Keith's left eye is nearly swollen shut. After a long silence, Claire bursts out laughing.

"This is so typical." No one was expecting that. "The world really is gong to end." This is something she had been blithely claiming ever since Edie said she found Claire's artwork "apocalyptic."

"Not if I can help it," Angel assures her. Claire's disturbed by the fact that he takes her literally.

"What are we going to do about the body?," Nate asks.

"There is no body," Rico points out.

David looks alarmed. "What did you do to Elliot Peterson?," he asks Angel. Suddenly he's no longer in thrall to the tall, handsome vampire.

"I staked him. And he turned to dust. That's what usually happens."

"Tomorrow afternoon, his family is expecting an open casket funeral. What the hell am I supposed to tell them?"

"We accidentally cremated the body?," Nate suggests. His deceased wife's family wanted her body cremated. So Nate gave them someone else's ashes and buried his wife's remains in an unmarked grave on top of a hill, as she had requested.

"They could sue us."

"What other option do we have?"

"We could sue THEM," David replies, pointing to Angel and Spike. Angel can't believe what he's hearing.

"We saved your lives."

"Couldn't you have put him to sleep or something?"

"So he could wake up during the funeral and attack his family?"

"Keith, they're a law firm," Nate reminds his brother. "We'd get our asses kicked."

"Usually they wake up after they're buried," Angel explains.

"But this man was about to be embalmed," George reports. That doesn't mean anything to Angel and Spike. "Embalming kills vampires!"

"It does?," Spike asks with a shrug.

"Wouldn't you die if we drained all your blood and pumped you full of preservative?"

"I suppose I might."

"Are the two of you supposed to be good' vampires?," Ruth asks.

"He's good. I'm bloody fantastic," Spike quips.

"How common is this?"

"We're the only ones," Angel says, grimacing when he has to say "we."

"How precisely did that happen?," George inquires.

"I was cursed by Gypsies."

"Really! My fourth wife was a Gypsy."

"Of the Kalderash clan?"

"Yes! From Moldavia by way of London."

"I happened to earn back my soul," Spike points out.

"How'd you do that?," Claire asks.

"Killed a bunch of monsters. Endured extreme amounts of pain."

"That doesn't prove you're good. It just proves you're a sadist and a masochist."

"Though I gave up the sadism when I switched sides."

"And the masochism?" Spike raises his eyebrows and doesn't answer. Claire laughs.

"How much disbelief do you have to suspend before you make yourself lobotomized?," Nate asks about their easy acceptance of so many ridiculous things. "I'm going to get a beer."

"Can you get me one?," Spike asks. Nate glares. "Fine. I'll get it myself." Angel watches Spike enter the kitchen.

"That's weird. He shouldn't be able to go in there uninvited. Is your kitchen a public accommodation?"

"Claire's friends seem to think so," Ruth quips. "Thank you for handling our . . . little problem. It was good of you to kill them without damaging any of the furniture."

"Sorry to spoil all these good vibes, but what am I supposed to do about the lack of a body for our funeral?," David asks.

"That's not my fault," Angel claims. "It's the fault of whoever bit him."

"That would be this pile of dust near the credenza," Ruth points out.

"The way I see it, some vampire has to be help responsible, and you're the only one left." David pauses. "Did I actually just say that?," he asks Keith.

"It's been a supremely fucked-up day."

"I've got it!," Angel declares. "Do you have a picture of the deceased? And his height and weight?"

"The coroner would have those."

"I need to make a call." Angel walks out onto the front porch. Spike comes back into the front hall, swigging a beer. Claire walks up to him.

"I can't believe I'm asking this, but, how old are you?"

"A little over a hundred and twenty."

"So, you've been a vampire for, like, eighty five years?" Spike does some quick arithmetic and appears alarmed.

"I've been a vampire for a little over a hundred and twenty years."

"But before that - "

"I wus human." She laughs.

"A little sensitive about your age?"

"Why so curious about this particular matter." Claire realizes they've gone off-track.

"How much of that time were you like that guy you just . . . disintegrated?"

"Never. If it wus me attacking your family, you'd all be dead." Spike finishes his beer and goes back into the kitchen for another. Claire's left to think about what Spike's disturbing boast. Angel returns.

"What time is the service?," he asks David.

"Three O'Clock."

"We can have it here by one."

"Have what here?"

"Your corpse. A wax model of your corpse with surprisingly life-like skin. Our lab is getting the vital information from the coroner right now."

"This isn't Madame Toussaud's."

"We're a lot more than a law firm. This sort of thing is not terribly difficult for us to pull off. The grieving family won't notice the difference."

"You've done this sort of thing before?," David asks with some concern.

"Not precisely. But we can handle your problem."

"Since you obliterated Mister Peterson, isn't it your problem as well?"

"Say, did you happen to know a detective named Kate Lockley?," Keith asks. Angel looks concerned.

"Did you here something about us? Because there was never an us. We were, just friends." Keith and David giggle. They find Angel's protests a tad ludicrous. Spike returns to the room, his new beer already half-drunk.

"You've killed people," Claire says to him.

"It's not something I'm proud of."

"A lot of people."

"I don't like to brag. Well, not about that. At least not anymore."

"What's it feel like?"

"You don't wanna know."

"Try me. I'm a big girl."

Elektra walks down a noisy Chicago street. She wears a black corset and dark blue jeans. Regan follows close behind. She is an inch shorter than Elektra and has short black hair, wears a spangled gold top and black leather pants. "You made the mistake of stopping in Cleveland?," Elektra asks.

"There was supposed to be something big going on. Demons were pouring in."

"So were Slayers, I bet."

"They had this ax thing that freaked everybody out."

"Cleveland's a boring town, anyway. The Slayers want it, they can have it." They watch two attractive young men exit a club. "On the other hand, I want them."

"You drink things other than beer?," Claire asks. "I mean, you, umm, you drink blood, right?"

"Animal blood."

"That's too bad." Spike worries where this is going. "See, about two months ago, our pipes backed up, and blood started pouring out." Faucets flowing with blood. Sounds like an interesting fantasy. "Blood from the embalming. It was like The Shining.' There was a pool of blood in the basement that must've been ten feet wide. I have some pictures of it in my room, if you want to see."

"Sure. But, why? Were the photos for insurance?"

"I'm an art student. Photography's my thing."

"Ahh. An art school girl."

After taking the boys dancing and drinking for an hour, Regan and Elektra duck with their victims into two nice quiet alleys on the way back to the guys' respective apartments. "I don't know how to put this, but I just can't wait any longer," Regan whispers into the man's right ear before kissing and licking his neck while she puts her right hand up his shirt and her left hand down his pants. He kisses her, putting his left hand on her butt and his right hand on her left thing. After ten seconds of smooching and groping, Regan's ready to go and turns bumpy. The man's eye bug out and he pulls his head back. "What? You thought I was just easy?," Regan jokes before sinking her fangs into the right side of his neck. Like all her victims, Regan thought he should have known she was too good to be true. The man cries out in pain and yells for help. "Cowardice is such a turn-off!," she kids, biting his right cheek and licking up the blood before digging into the left side of his neck. As she gleefully guzzles away, Regan fails to notice that she has company.

"You should've stopped after your fourth," a young woman says.

"Binge eating is never good for your health," the woman next to her adds.

Spike looks at the picture. "What do you think?," Claire asks. He involuntarily goes bumpy, but quickly changes back.

"You can almost taste it," he comments, embarrassed by his reaction. Claire's not.

"Can you do that again?"

"I'd rather not."

"Why? Cause you might hurt me?"

"No. Cuz it's not my more attractive side." Claire stands next to Spike, looks at her mirror, and sees that Spike's absent. She looks at him again, then at the mirror, just to make sure.

"How do you do your hair? How do you shave? Do you have to shave?"

"You're quite the curious little kittie."

"It's not everyday I get to meet a vampire. What am I saying? It's never! You shouldn't exist, but here you are." She grabs his right forearm with her left hand and puts her right index and middle fingers on the underside of his wrist. "No pulse. And you're cold."

"One follows from the other."

"I'm sure you get this sort of thing all the time."

"No. Maybe that's because I keep to myself."

"Figures. The lonely, ennui-filled vampire. Don't you think that's a cliche? You're playing right into a typecast," she jokes.

"You don't want to try looking inside me. There's too much ugliness."

"Actually, I think you're rather superficial, and this deep, tortured, complex act is just a smokescreen."

Spike looks at numerous pictures on the wall of a very attractive young blonde woman. "This your girlfriend?"

"We're just friends." Redhead college student. Blonde "friend." Spike thinks he knows what's going on.

"But she's gay?"

"Yes, and how is that any of your business?"

"And you're, how shall I put it, sitting on the fence?"

"Don't try and understand me," she replies, parroting Spike's own pleas. He smiles.

"Guess I walked into that one." They stand for a few quiet and awkward seconds in her bedroom. "I think I should go check on Angel."

"Why? He seemed to doing fine. David seems to like him, which is predictable. But mom also likes him, which is disturbing."

"She seems like a tough bird."

"Yeah. Nate said she saved Rico's and George's lives. Guess you never can tell."

Regan looks at Rosario - a short, skinny Puerto Rican, and at Tiffany - a tall black girl with strong shoulders, and sighs with disappointment. "Don't you gals ever stop to have some fun?" She returns to her human face, tosses the man at Rosario and sprints away. Rosa drops the ghost-white, barely alive victim and follows Tiff. Sixty feet on, Regan pulls a dumpster into the middle of the alley, slowing Tiffany down. She turns left when she gets to the street, and races down the sidewalk, darting around passers-by. At the first street crossing, a car making a left has to slam on its breaks. After Regan runs out of his way, the driver starts up again, blocking Rosario's and Tiffany's path. At the second crossing, Regan runs across the hood of a car making a quick right. At the third street she makes a left. "Leks!! Leks!!!," she screams as she runs. A hundred yards down the street on Regan's left, Elektra leans back against the wall, kissing and grinding with an arrogant, dapper young investment banker who is about to get most unlucky. Leks musses up his hair with her left hand and rubs his chest with her right as she thrusts her pelvis forward, rubs her right leg against the back of his left and plants a hickey on the right side of his neck, feeling his pulse with the tip of her tongue. "Leks!" Elektra hates it when people bother her while she's in the moment, so she ignores her friend, and patiently waits for her victim's heart rate to peak. "Slayers!"

That Elektra will stop for. "Sorry stud. Four's a crowd," she whispers in the happy man's right ear before spinning him around and going bumpy. With her right hand, she unzips his pants and goes to work. When trying to stay alive, it's always helpful to gross a Slayer out and make her not want to touch you. With her left hand on his chest, she pulls him towards her. "Make that five." He looks out, sees three hot girls, and wonders what's going on. Does Alexa like to have others watch?, he thinks to himself. The Slayers grimace and look away from this decrepit, perverted vampire. "You touch my friend, and he dies," she warns them. The man's eyes bug out.

"He dies, you die," Rosario replies. "Actually, you die either way."

Elektra giggles. "You're gonna choke on those words." She snaps the unlucky fellow's neck and steps out to fight. Tiffany charges Elektra, who ducks a punch and kicks Tiff in the back with her left foot, sending her face-first into the wall. She spins and lands a left roundhouse kick to Rosario's shins, tripping up the second attacking Slayer.

"Ya know, they're crediting me with your kills," Regan reports.

"Which ones?"

"All of tonight's."

"You should have known there was more than one vamp sucking up that much blood. But you girls weren't counting on a fair fight." As the Slayers circle, Regan and Elektra stand back-to-back.

"Did Spike ever give you any tips for fighting Slayers?," Regan asks.

"Yeah. Don't get staked."


	27. Why Connor hates his cousin

Elektra clashes with Slayers, drawing Giles's attention. And Dev runs into Connor again.

Tiffany lands a right hook, and Regan goes bumpy. She grabs the larger Slayer, who flips her to the ground. Elektra ducks Rosario's right hook and lands consecutive right kicks to the Slayer's stomach and chin. Elektra blocks Rosa's right hook kick and ducks under her left roundhouse kick, then spins round and sweeps out the Slayer's legs. She dances round her felled opponent. "Not so tough on your own?" Rosario stands and decks Elektra with a leaping right roundhouse kick. She grabs the vampire's corselet with her left hand and lands two right punches to her face. Elektra braces her hands against the wall behind her and pushes Rosario back with her feet. She wipes the blood from her nose and moves towards the Slayer, circling rightward. "That's the way, Regan!," she yells. "Wear her down." Not much of a fighter, Regan keeps her distance, dodging Tiffany's blows and staying on the move, occasionally throwing a punch or a kick of her own.

"Like Spike told you," she replies, ducking a right hook, then trading left crosses before backing away from a right kick. "Slayers gotta breathe. We don't." Elektra leaps over Rosa and grabs the brick wall with her fingers and shoes. She immediately leaps twenty feet across to the other wall, then pushes off and lands a spinning right kick to her opponent's head. As the Slayer stands up, Elektra smiles, reaches her hands above her head and cracks her knuckles.

"Let's go girl," she taunts the Slayer. Rosario hits Elektra in the chest with a leaping right kick. Elektra blocks left and right crosses and nails Rosa in the mouth with a left elbow. She blocks the Slayer's right hook and pops her in the nose with a quick right jab. "It's like the blood wants to leave your body so bad, it isn't even waiting for you to die," she comments about Rosario's bloody lip and nose. More determined than ever, the Slayer slowly closes in, ducking Elektra's left jab and landing a left uppercut and right roundhouse kick. The vampire spins through the air and tumbles to the ground. Rosario takes out her stake and goes for the kill. While still on her back, Elektra grabs the stake with her left hand, grabs Rosario's neck with her right hand and growls. She pushes the Slayer off of her and stands up. "You did not just disrespect me by trying to stake me so quickly." Rosario tries a right hook kick. Elektra grabs her foot with both hands, snarls and hurls her into the wall behind Elektra. Rosario's head hits an exposed water pipe, and she's slow to get up. Elektra decides to aide Regan. She bends down, slides across the ground and trips Tiffany from behind. Regan leaps on top.

Elektra goes in to finish off Rosario. Spike had taught her there was a moment in every fight when victory suddenly seemed inevitable. And that moment is now. She blocks Rosario's left and right hooks, pushing her back into the wall. She ducks under a right hook kick and steps back away from a quick straight right kick. Then Elektra explodes. She lands a right roundhouse kick to the nose, then spins back the other way for a left roundhouse kick to the sternum. She follows that effort up with a left hook kick to the stomach and a straight right kick to the chin. Before the dazed Slayer can fall, Elektra wraps her right hand around her throat and begins to choke. Rosario takes her stake in her right hand and tries to reach up for the vampire's heart, but Elektra knocks the stake to the ground with her free left hand. Now she chokes away with both hands. Rosario turns red and tries to wheeze for breath as she feebly grabs Elektra's wrists with both hands. "I hate it when people take away my meal. Fortunately, you've provided a more-than-adequate substitute."

Regan pins down Tiffany's shoulders and tries to bite her neck. Tiff grabs Regan's hair and is able to keep the vampire's fangs off her neck. Then she puts her hands on Regan's shoulders and pushes her away. As she stands up, Tiffany takes her stake in her right hand and goes for the heart. Regan blocks it with her left hand, reaches her right into her back pocket and pulls out a knife. A six inch blade flips out, and she goes for Tiffany's abdomen. Startled, Tiffany backs up and hits Regan's right forearm with her left hand, knocking the knife off-course. She then lunges forward and stakes Regan in the heart before she can make another stab for the Slayer. Regan gasps and slices into the back of Tiffany's shoulder before disintegrating. She looks forward and to her right, noticing how much trouble Rosario is in. Tiff stealthily hurries over and tries to stake Elektra in the back. Elektra drops Rosa, spins round and grabs the stake with her left hand. "Nice try." She throws a right hook, but Tiffany blocks it and hurls Elektra over her shoulder and to the ground.

"You killed my friend. You bitch-ass Slayers killed my friend!" They both attack, Tiff on her left and Rosa on her right. Elektra leaps up and does a forward flip right in between them. When they turn and try again, Elektra does a split kick, hitting each Slayer simultaneously and knocking them down. Leks returns to her human face. By now, both Slayers are tired and injured, but burning with fury for this pesky vamp. "We ain't so different: Three hot chicks with super powers. Yet you two are so joyless."

"Three hot chicks?," Tiffany asks, looking around. "You brought another friend?"

"Next time we meet, I'll be bringing family." Elektra ducks under Tiffany's right hook kick and lands a right roundhouse kick to her chest. She then fells Rosario with a vicious forward flip kick. Elektra puts her back to the wall. "You girls should have more fun. Especially now that your days are numbered." They scoff at this threat, and attack yet again, Tiffany head-on, Rosario to Elektra's left. Leks leaps over Tiff, does a flip, and leaps six feet up to grab hold of the apartment building's escape ladder. She scampers three floors up before stopping. "We'll see how you handle a double team." She scales the rest of the way to the roof. The Slayers reluctantly let her go.

Back inside the Fisher home, Angel's regaling Keith and David with stories of heroism intermixed with tales of shopping. Spike sulks in the corner, downing another beer. Ruth comes over to try and cheer up her guest. "Would you like something to eat? I'm sorry. You don't eat."

"I don't have to. But I do."

"I thought vampires - "

"I'm a rebel."

"Except for the coat."

"Pardon!"

"The long leather coat. You're wearing one. Your friend Angel is wearing one. I suspect other vampires also wear one. It seems like the sort of thing a creature of the night would wear."

"This coat is special."

"To you, I'm sure it is," she replies condescendingly.

"I killed a very brave warrior to get this coat."

"Oh. Another vampire?"

"No." He doesn't have to say any more. She gets where he's going, and decides to back away. "You know wut I could go for? These onion flower things. It's been a long time since I've had one."

"I think George just bought some onions."

"There's not enough time. You need to soak them in ice water for at least two hours before they're supple enough to be shaped."

"I still don't know what to make of your embalming theory," Angel tells George. "If you're right, vampires should almost never rise from the grave. But they did that all the time in Sunnydale."

"You lived in Sunnydale?"

"Isn't that the town that was swallowed by a gigantic sinkhole?," David asks.

"Sinkhole? Like bloody hell!," Spike interjects.

"Sinkholes occur in areas where the bedrock is limestone," George explains. "Which isn't the case on that part of the California coast."

"It was me!," Spike announces. "Well, my soul and a certain necklace I was wearing."

"Which you wouldn't have been able to wear if it wasn't for me," Angel adds.

"Making you the a glorified courier. How heroic."

"I'm sorry. I don't understand," Ruth says.

"That seems to be the theme of the day," Nate quips.

Gretchen walks into Giles's office on Wednesday morning. "Rosario was nearly killed last night. It was her first close call. She's pretty shaken up."

"That's understandable. At least Tiffany's there, so she doesn't have to go through it alone."

"Tiffany was stabbed. Twelve stitches. She managed to kill the vampire. Seems that more and more of the enemy are arming themselves."

"A sign of desperation."

"You have to wonder, how long before they're packing pistols? No, wait. Some of them already are."

"Gun-toting vampires are seen as weak by their fellow brethren."

"So there's a cultural taboo. Taboos can change. Especially when the alternative to change is extermination."

"We can't have our girls walking the streets in kevlar vests. It would attract too much attention. Furthermore, as long as they employ the element of surprise, the vampires won't have time to aim and fire before our girls are engaging them hand-to-hand."

"The one who attacked Rosario got away. She fought off two Slayers."

"A female vampire. Did they give a description?"

"Tall, white, American teenager. The other vampire called her Lex.' And one more thing: this Lex girl mentioned Spike."

Giles takes off his glasses. "So this is why you're telling me but not Buffy."

"She's busy training the recruits. Besides, I don't think this girl's dangerous enough to warrant Buffy's personal attention."

"What did she say about Spike?"

"Something about Spike being her teacher, or mentor."

"Sire?"

"Can't say. But she vowed revenge on behalf of her family'." Giles mulls this over. "Tiff and Rosa were very curious about who this Spike' character was. I just told them the basics: he killed two Slayers, but he's dead. Nothing regarding Buffy. I feel there's no need to complicate the matter."

"Yes. You're, er, quite right about that. No need whatsoever."

Deb and Dev lie in the back seat of Dev's convertible, with a blanket wrapped around them. The car is parked on a bluff overlooking the ocean. "That makes up for not having any kills tonight," Devlin says.

"Are you comparing our love-making to staking a vampire?"

"I'm not making an equivalence. One's transcendent while the other's well, prosaic."

"What's that? Oh, probably the opposite of transcendent."

"But they're both, well, the absence of either is frustrating."

"Dammit. I can't believe I forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"I'm supposed to visit Judith this weekend."

"Well you'll have to cancel. We need to get these guys before they have a chance to move. Your life is at stake."

"I know. Wait. I know what to do. I'll just see her Thursday."

"Then when will you do your school work?"

"Dev, when will you accept that I'm a B student? You expect me to work like an A student. Which I've never been. That's you, not me."

"It can be you. Nothing's impossible. If the last six months have taught you anything, it's that."

"I'm a seventeen year-old girl shacking up with an older guy and running around all night getting in fights. My grades should be suffering from all that. Not getting better."

"And then there's the fact that I'm a vampire."

"Exactly. I'm a very messed-up girl."

"Who saves lives."

"That's just like you to make things complicated and contradictory."

"You mean like how we're doing good but having way too much fun?"

"Since when was it too much?," she asks as she rolls on top of Dev. "You're not wilting on me?"

"Never."

"Good." They start kissing. "I think this summer, we should hit the road. Drive around the country. Go anywhere vamps need killing."

"Like Bonnie and Clyde."

"Except no killing people. Or robbing banks. So, actually, it will be nothing like Bonnie and Clyde."

"Good. Cause he was impotent. And they both ended up dead."

Keith and David are in the apartment they share. "How's the swelling?," David asks Keith, who has an ice pack on his left eye.

"Going down pretty fast. Remind me to bring a SWAT team next time I come on over to your house."

"Or just a pair of old queens."

"They're not gay, David."

"Oh, please. You saw how they were bickering. Don't tell me they're not a couple."

"They're clearly bi. And I bet the two of them are beyond sex. How long have they been together? After a few decades, people get bored with each other."

"Is that supposed to be some sort of reference to our relationship?"

"No David. We haven't even been together half a decade. And we both agreed to end the threesomes."

"And, having met Angel, you regret that?"

Keith chuckles. "Do you?"

"I asked you first."

"I admit it: I'd tapped that ass."

David smiles and nods. "Maybe we should have a friendly double-date with the two of them sometime."

"A foursome?"

"Personality I'm not crazy about Spike. But if you want him - "

"Please. He's minor league. Now Angel and The Rock . . . "

"That would be a foursome."

"In your dreams."

"No. In yours."

"Ya got that right."

The next morning, Claire is sitting down to breakfast with Ruth, Nate and George. "It was like having Apollo and Dionysus in our living room!"

"Claire, don't you think you're overstating things?," her mother asks.

"Actually, Apollo was seen as the guardian of the dead," George informs them. "He was sometimes identified with the wolf, which connects with Angel's decidedly lupine features when he's excited."

"Apollo is not vampiric," Ruth maintains.

"No, but he definitely resembles Angel in appearance and personality."

"Isn't Apollo the one who's handsome and charming but never gets any?," Nate asks.

"Okay, so he's not entirely like Angel," Claire incorrectly concedes. "But Spike! It's like the Gods decided Angel could get a little boring on his own, and decided to create his exact polar opposite. Fire and ice!"

"Which, when put together, makes a big puddle of water," Nate quips. "Not exactly a dynamic duo."

"Okay, acids and bases."

"Which makes salt and big puddle of water," George adds. "After a tremendous explosion, of course."

"Getting burned to death while leveling a whole town, and coming back," Claire enthuses.

"I think he was taking us for saps when he made up that story," Nate counters.

"Even without that part being true, he's got that irrational, primitive, animal fire that I've always wanted to capture on film."

"According to the lore, vampires can't be photographed," George reports. "Then again, folklore is not always accurate."

"I can't believe we're still discussing this," Nate complains. "Can't we get back to the real, sane world and put this fucking insanity behind us?" He want to go out for a jog and have another chat with his dead wife. Or perhaps his deceased father.

"What insanity?," Anita asks. She just came in through the back door. Anita is Claire's friend from art school. She is slightly shorter than Claire, with medium-length black hair. Anita is bubbly, talkative and highly-sexual. Also, she has a crush on Claire's older brother Nate. She's attracted to the dark, storming, dangerous visage he's been cultivating since his wife committed suicide.

"Yesterday, one of our corpses rose from the dead. We were attacked by vampires," Nate answers with a straight face.

Anita laughs. "Quirky sense of humor ya got there, Nate." She slaps him on the shoulder, then goes to the refrigerator and pours some orange juice.

"And Claire's in love with one of the vampires," Nate adds.

"I am not! I just think he'd make an interesting subject for my art."

"You guys have the wackiest inside jokes. I love this house!"

"If only you were here yesterday," Ruth laments. She wouldn't have minded Anita getting attacked. Between sleeping over, taking their food and washing her clothes in their basement, Anita's become quite the parasite. Claire leaves with Anita out the back door for school.

"So seriously, what did I miss last night?," Anita asks.

"Seriously? Nothing. Ludicrously? Quite a lot." Anita gives Claire a confused look. The Fishers are nuttier than usual this morning.

In the basement of their academy, Giles and Gretchen watch a new Slayer fight one of the vampires they keep in captivity for the purpose of training. A circle of other new Slayers surrounds the two fighters, cheering their girl on. She knocks the vampire on his back and dusts him. Well, she would have dusted him if her staked wasn't dulled. Importing enough vampires to enable every training fight to end in a kill would be logistically unfeasible. Buffy hurls the defeated vampire back into his cage and instructs the Slayer on what she did right and what she did wrong. "I believe I found something on Lex," Giles whispers to Gretchen. They walk away from Buffy so she won't hear. "There's a record of a vampire named Electra, sired about thirty years ago by Drusilla."

"Spike's sire. So he's her brother?," she asks with a laugh.

"I'm not sure it works that way. Electra is known for her trickery and brutality. Word is that she's spent the past few years caring for her sire."

"From what I've read and heard, Dru ain't the kinda gal who can make it on her own."

"Yes. But allied with another powerful vampire, she can be quite formidable."

"Is this Electra powerful?"

"She gave Rosario quite a scare."

"But Spike powerful, or Angelus powerful?"

"Definitely not. But Drusilla and a vampire who could fight off two Slayers is not a combination I would take lightly."

"So we bulk up in Chicago. Send one or two of the new girls there."

"I was thinking of something a little more proactive."

"Add her to Operation Sigma?"

"It's best to eliminate her before she can join forces with this, er, Electra woman. And, knowing Drusilla, she's probably not keeping a low profile. It shouldn't be too hard to track her down."

"If I push my sources."

"If we push OUR sources."

"Of course," Gretchen replies with a smirk.

On Thursday afternoon, Devlin drives his Mustang with the top down and the tinted windows rolled up onto the USC campus. "Have fun with Judith."

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'll be in the library."

"How ya gonna get there?"

"Easy. I'll walk." Devlin opens the door, unfurls his umbrella, and steps out into the sunlight. Debbie breathes a sigh of relief.

"I still get nervous every time you do that. If it slips out of your hand, or there's a strong gust of wind, you're, you're done for."

"I've taken greater risks." He strides down the walkway, getting more than a few odd looks for using an umbrella in the sunshine. Debbie just smiles and shakes her head.

Six hours later, Devlin is in one of the underground levels of the library, reading Livy, when he spots a familiar face walking by. "Hey Connor!," Dev whispers as he stands up. "John Connor." Connor turns around. Dev walks towards him. "It's me. Devlin. You know: Debbie's boyfriend." Connor's eyes narrow. His lips purse. This is the hideous creature whose hands were all over that vivacious, glimmering alabaster goddess.

"How come you're not with her?" A guy can hope.

"She's hanging with friends. You think about Deb at all? Ever imagine being with her? Trust me, she's better than you'll ever know."

"She seemed like a nice girl. Which makes me wonder what she's doing with an asshole like you."

"Speaking truth to power. I like that."

"What power do you have?," Connor scoffs.

"You really don't want me to answer that with a demonstration. You really don't."

"Fine. Then quit wasting my time." Connor turns around to walk away. Devlin grabs his left arm. Connor spins around, angry. "What is your problem?"

"A certain young American woman currently residing in Rome, but that's not important. I used to be like you. The sweet, shy vulnerable guy who waits in the wings for someone to give him a chance."

"You don't know the first thing about me," Connor scoffs.

"I know what you'll missing out on. Because I've missed out on your life. I woke up one day, and I was the same, but completely different. New family. New responsibilities. Like a hidden world had been opened up to me. Sometimes, when I see the decent, hardworking, starry-eyed likes of you, I wonder how my life would have been if that world had remained closed."

"Whatever, freak," a thoroughly wigged-out Connor mumbles before heading for the stairs.

"Thank you. Better freak than ordinary." Connor glances back suspiciously at Dev, who grins and winks at the lad. He likes messing with the normals in a sort of bite-less roles-reversed reenactment of his first encounter with Spike. Perhaps the compulsion is a way of trying to understand what Spike saw in him. Up on the first level, Connor sees Debbie with Judith. He nervously averts his eyes and walks past them.

"Hi," Debbie says with a little wave. Connor turns around. "John Connor, right? It's an easy name to remember." He smiles and gets butterflies in his stomach.

"Ughh, ummm, Debbie, right?," he responds, trying to sound casual.

"How ya been? You were pretty down-in-the-dumps that night we met."

"I'm okay."

"Still single? Cause Judith here could use a date." Judith slaps her friend's shoulder.

"I'm, I'm available." Okay, she's not interested. Not yet. But even joking about setting him up with her friend shows that Debbie thinks Connor's at least cute.

"Are you friends with Brooke?," Judith asks Connor.

"Yeah. Sort of."

"Oh. That's where I've seen you. What's your major?"

"I haven't declared yet."

"Sir, do you have anything to declare?," Devlin asks as he walks up. "Only my genius." He hugs Debbie from behind and kisses her right cheek. "Oscar Wilde." Dev and Connor lock eyes in some sort of impromptu death stare.

"We should probably be heading back," Debbie says to Judith. They hug. Then Deb and Dev leave holding hands. As he watches them, Connor imagines bashing Devlin's brains. These strange thoughts seem to come from somewhere else. Somewhere outside him.

"I gotta, umm, study," he says to Judith. "Nice meeting you, Judith."

"Nice meeting you, John."

"It's Connor."

"You shouldn't toy with the boy," Dev says to Deb. "He's totally hot for you."

"He's sweet. And harmless. How many guys do I meet that I can say that about?"


	28. The Fight of their Lives

Deb and Dev do some high-risk, high-reward slaying in Las Vegas. Back in LA, Spike takes the risk of reading poetry onstage - in front of Claire.

Five cars pull off the road on the outskirts of Las Vegas early Friday night. Devlin and Debbie step out of his car. They are joined by Cynthia and Theo, Danielle and Luiz, Melanie and Paul, and Diego and Sidney. "It's good to finally be able to take the tinfoil off the windows," Melanie says.

"Don't know why we couldn't have waited," Sidney gripes about starting the trip in the late afternoon.

"There's competition," Dev explains.

"Why don't we let them knock this guy off?," Theo asks.

"Seems kinda stupid to risk our lives when we don't have to," Cynthia – Theo's girlfriend and Debbie's best friend – concurs.

"Because they could fail. And because we need to set an example to scare off anyone else who's thinking of going after Debbie. Deb and I are taking eighty percent of the risks. And afterwards, you all get to have eighty percent of the fun. Which reminds me." He passes out id's to Debbie, Cynthia, Theo, Danielle, Melanie and Diego.

"Fake licenses?," Danielle asks.

"Compare it to your real one," Devlin suggests.

"Holy shit."

"It's good, no?"

"It's perfect. How did you get these?," Diego asks.

"My real license says I'm forty six. My face says I'm nineteen." Devlin pulls our an Ohio license. "This says I'm twenty three. I get a new one every five years or so."

"How dorky," Sidney says with a smirk.

"Whatever happened to sneaking in places?," Paul asks.

"I bet you actually pay for your clothes," Luiz quips. The three of them laugh. Devlin looks annoyed, but lets it slide. Sure, they think he's a dork. But they also risk their lives for him.

"Follow me. Wait for my signal before entering."

"What if we miss it?," Cynthia asks.

"Trust me. You won't." Devlin drives to an industrial park well of the Strip. He puts on his vampire face and approaches a warehouse. Two muscular vampires stand on either side of a metal door. They glance down at Devlin. "Yo, I'm new in town. I'd like to play. Way I hear it, that requires a thousand dollar ante." He pulls out a thick wad of twenty dollar bills and hands it to the vampire on his right. "I think you'll find everything's in order." The vampires in Vegas have formed syndicates and carved up the town into a series of rackets. A vampire must pay a certain monthly charge for a "Hunting License" which allow him to work a certain number of casinos and kill a certain number of people. Vampires who don't pay are killed. The vampire racketeers use a portion of these earnings to pay off cops, who stay quiet so long as the vampires keep their killing from getting out of control. Sixty million annual visitors offer plenty of enticing meals, and keep the vampires from preying on the locals and getting hunted down. As this lowly vampire counts the money, Debbie fires her crossbow from sixty feet away, piercing the heart of the vampire to Devlin's left. The other vampire looks startled, to say the least, as his colleague disintegrates. Dev grabs the money back with his right hand and takes the arrow in his left hand, staking the vampire to his right before he can react. Debbie drops the crossbow and walks up to Devlin. "Remember honey. We play this cool."

"I won't spazz out. Just because this guy put a hit out on me is no reason for me to take this personally," she replies sarcastically. They kick the door simultaneously, knocking loose the bolt. It swings open, and they enter. Their friends rush over, Cynthia, Theo, Danielle, Melanie and Diego on the left side of the door, Luiz, Paul and Sidney on the right. Those three go bumpy. Danielle and Melanie look away. They don't like seeing their boyfriends like this. Diego manages a small smile. He kinda gets a kick out of it. When the door is about to close, Cynthia sticks a doorstop on the ground to catch it. Once they enter, Dev is attacked from the left, and Debbie from the right. He punches his adversary to the ground, and she kicks hers down. Two more vampire come at them, and two more end up on their asses.

"Settle down, people!," a man calls out from eighty feet away, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. He is six foot three, two hundred twenty pounds, with greasy black hair, a mustache and goatee, and tattoos on his arms. He wears a tight black t-shirt, black leather pants, thick silver belt, gold chains round his neck, and a black blazer with the arms cut off. "Let's see who our visitors are before we roll out the welcome mat. Devlin," he says with pronounced understatement. "We could have made a great team. But you had to follow in Spike's footsteps. I suppose his cautionary tale wasn't enough to keep you away from this piece of tail. You must be Debbie, Rogue Slayer. Love the job you did on Buffy's girls." He's trying to drive a wedge between her and Dev by reminding her that the bad guys approve of her work. "That made me think that if I wanted to get you, I'd have to try something new."

"And you still failed," she says as they both walk towards this man. Devlin wears blue corduroy pants and a dark green button-down shirt. Debbie wears a black tank top, and unbuttoned plaid flannel shirt, and gray jeans. Her hair is down, to Devlin's delight. He loves to watch her long curls cascade as she leaps and whirls around during a fight. The four vampires they fought have joined four other vampires, a quartet standing against either wall, flanking their boss, as well as the invaders. Slightly behind and on either side of this boss are two young men in short, bulky leather jackets.

"Oh, have I?," the boss replies with a smile. "How do you know my plan all along wasn't to draw you here into an ambush? A cocky enemy falling into a trap of his own making: ask your boyfriend if he's ever used that one."

"Clearly we both have tricks up our sleeves, among other things," Devlin replies, noticing the two men grabbing on their waistbands. "To be honest, even though I've know you for – what is it now? – fourteen years, I'm still surprised every time I see you. Maybe it's your Gold's Gym body, or your Philly accent, but you don't look or sound like a Bubba."

"It's a name that makes people underestimate me. You know how important that can be in our business."

"Oh do I ever! Your guards worst the least bit afraid of me. Now they're gone with the wind."

"Always put the expendable ones outside. You know that."

Devlin looks around. "Just so you know what's up, we got no problem with any of you."

"That's right," Debbie. "We're only here to kill Bubba."

"Of course, if you insist I defending him - "

"Then we'll have to kill you all." They laugh. "That's right. They always laugh before I kill them," Debbie boasts.

"For those in your position, it's something of a jinx," Devlin adds. Bubba went after Deb because the ambitious vampire has been expanding his racket. He knew that Angel had driven many vampires out of Los Angeles, and figured that made Orange County a lucrative market, as well as opening up opportunities in San Diego. But Debbie and her tireless slaying stood in the way.

"Enough," Bubba says, putting his hands up and walking over to Devlin. "We'll settle this like men. You and me, to the death."

"And Debbie?"

"She can have a go with me after I kill you. That should keep her hands full. I suppose she'll be looking for another vampire do get sweaty with once you're gone." Bubba gets in Devlin's face. Actually, since he's six inches taller, Bubba gets well above Devlin's face. Dev winds up and throws a right hook. Bubba blocks it and lands a right hook of his own. Devlin flies ten feet back and slides five more feet on the floor. Bubba finds that a little excessive. The two men who stood by Bubba's side pull out their pistols and aim at Debbie, who is thirty feet in front of them. On the ground, Devlin pulls out two guns and fires from forty five feet away, splattering their brains on the back wall before either of them could get off a shot. Bubba realizes Devlin was on to him. He knew Bubba got in his face to block his vision, and he flew so far back to get a clear shot. He feels foolish for falling for Devlin's trap and throwing a punch. Debbie takes a few seconds to recover from the near-death trauma. Something about pointing guns at a Slayer makes them feel especially vulnerable, especially because they're not used to ever feeling vulnerable. Bubba goes bumpy and attacks her from the left, wrapping his arms around her. Devlin leaps to his feet, rushes over and pistol-whips Bubba away from his girl before he can bite her. As the other eight vampires converge, Devlin points the guns behind him and fires two shots through the metal door. Debbie's friends, who are standing along the wall outside, see the shots pierce the door, and know it's time.

"Rock and roll," Diego says. Sid and he smile at one another. She winks. The three vampires burst in: Sid with a stave, Paul with an ax and Luiz with a curved sabre. The humans follow: Theo, Cynthia and Diego with crossbows, Melanie and Danielle with stakes and crosses. Devlin puts the safeties on and hurls his guns behind him. They slide along the floor towards Debbie's friends. Mel and Danielle tentatively pick them up. Devlin showed them how to use the weapons, but they're still unsure about firing live ammo in a crowded space. Debbie recovers from the trauma of having two guns pointed at her just in time to realize she's being octuple-teamed by vampires. Dev takes Bubba's right cross, and responds with a left jab and right hook. Deb does a forward flip to avoid the charging vamps. When they turn and face her, she knocks one down with a right hook kick, another with a left roundhouse kick, and third with a reverse flip kick. She throws a fourth vampire over her shoulder into the side wall and stakes him. By now, the vamps notice she has backup. Sid, Paul and Luiz take on the three vampires Deb just knocked down. The other four look at the five humans, count the three crossbows, each assume they'll be the lucky one who doesn't get shot at, and charge.

"What about me!?," Debbie mockingly complains. Her friends retreat. Three of the pursuing vampires slow down, leaving one in the lead. Too late, he realizes he's been abandoned. Diego, Cynthia and Theo fire when he's ten feet away. Diego and Cynthia both hit the heart, and Theo misses by two inches. He turns to dust. The two vampires behind him attack. Mel and Danielle hold out their crosses. The other three drop their crossbows and do likewise, backing up into a corner. The final vampire turns to face Debbie as she comes up from behind. He pulls out a plastic trophy.

"Hey! That's my gymnastics trophy. Oh." She throws a right hook. He willingly goes down. "Did we forget about someone?," she asks the two remaining vampires who are attacking her friends. They turn round and leap at the Slayer. She throws one into the wall to her right, but the other one knocks her on her back and gets on top. Melanie rushes up and stakes him in the back. Debbie gets up. "Thanks."

"I saved you," Mel says with a smile.

"No you didn't. I could have taken him on my own." Just then, the vampire to her right knocks her down with a left cross. When he charges Debbie while she's down, she sweeps his legs and gets up. Theo and Cynthia stay to watch and help out if needed. Diego, Melanie and Danielle run over to watch their undead significant others in action. Sidney uses her agility to kick her opponent into submission before staking him. Paul and Luiz trade blows and prevent their opponent from stealing their weapons before finally getting the chance to behead them. At the far end of the room, Dev and Bubba go at it ferociously. Bubba uses his much longer reach to land powerful punches, and his long legs to connect with a few kicks. Devlin eventually figures out Bubba's rhythms and starts to anticipate and block Bubba's attacks before launching effective counter attacks. But when he gets overconfident, Bubba ties Dev up and tosses him across the floor.

"I don't get you, Dev."

"Few people do."

"We have the same enemies." They trade right hooks. "The same goals." Dev ducks another right hook and lands a left uppercut. "The same view of the world." Bubba connects with a left cross and blocks Dev's right hook. But Devlin ducks Bubba's right hook and lands a right roundhouse kick. "Why can't we be friends?"

"We could. We would. If you hadn't gone after someone I love." Dev lands a left hook. Bubba lands a right hook. But when he tries a right hook kick, Dev grabs his leg and throws him into the back wall. The bruised, bleeding vampire slowly walks over to his fallen opponent. "I don't believe in principles. I believe in individuals. And I fight for the ones I care about." He lands a left hook kick as Bubba tries to stand up. "Be they human or vampire. It doesn't bloody matter." Bubba chuckles as he stands up.

"You're still his boy."

"Not anymore." Dev lands a right hook kick to the chest and a right roundhouse to the head, followed by left and right hooks. "I used to wish I was him." He ducks Bubba's right jab and lands a quick left uppercut. "Now he wishes he were me."

Claire and Anita sit on the far side of a round table at their favorite bohemian bar. Sitting to Anita's right is Russell. He's a Trent Reznor wannabe with light brown hair and no testosterone. He used to date Claire, until she found out he had sex with their male art professor. Anita eventually decided to turn him into her compliant little boy toy. Onstage is Edie, the beautiful blonde girl Claire took pictures of, the one Spike thinks Claire's dating. He's not alone. Anita calls them "Gertrude and Alice." Edie finishes up her fiery performance art poetry. She's quite charismatic, and has Claire's rapt attention. She leads the cheers and applause when Edie finishes. She walks down from the stage, gives Claire a hug, and sits to Claire's right and Anita's left. The bar's owner gets on stage.

"Edie, brilliant as always. Our next performer is making his debut on this stage. Or, any stage for that matter. Please give a warm round of applause for William." The applause is tepid. Strangely, the loudest cheers come from Edie.

"Oh God. Another blonde loser who's never been fucked reading an angry poem about the clitoris," Anita gripes.

"No, this guy's cool," Edie assures her best friend. "I met him backstage." Spike walks out on stage with a book in his left hand and a glass of scotch in his right. He looks very nervous.

"Holy shit," Claire says. Her eyes get very wide.

"Okay, he's cute. But it's no reason to get all wet," Anita replies. Then she looks to her right and sees Russell staring at Spike. "That goes for you too," she warns, hitting his left shoulder.

"I know this guy," Claire reports. "We met at my house Tuesday night. There was an incident."

"You know William?," Edie asks, intrigued.

"His name's Spike."

"Oooh. A double identity. That is interesting," Anita says.

"I had no idea he wrote poetry," Claire exclaims. "He just seemed so totally not the type."

"I bet there's a lot you don't know about him," Russell says.

After a long wait, Spike clears his throat. "A shot of courage." He downs the scotch. Then he begins reading. Anita puts her hand on Russell's pants.

"I don't fucking believe it! This guy's making you hard!"

"No. Your hand on my dick is doing that."

"It was already hard when I put it on."

"I think he looks a little too rough for you, Russell," Edie jokes.

"You have no idea," Claire adds.

"What's that mean?," Edie asks, a little suspicious.

"Just that, Russell's not his type. Shut up. I'm trying to listen."

"Your beauty, effulgent." Russell stands and claps. Anita glares at him. Claire lets out a "woo!" Spike hears her voice, looks down and sees Claire. He smiles nervously. He thought he was only performing for strangers.

"Okay, that was for Cecily. This next one is called . . . "

"You wish he wished that," Bubba retorts. "Spike would never want to be you."

"If the choice was between the two of us, he would. Because you're about to die." Dev takes a left cross, ducks under a right hook, lands three left hooks and a right uppercut. He growls, leaps up and head-butts Bubba, who hits the wall and pushes Devlin away. When Bubba steps out and tries a left jab, Dev grabs his arm, throws him to the ground, leaps down and drives the stake in his left hand through Bubba's heart. Bubba just smiles.

"You'll wish you hadn't done that." His skin turns to dust, but it's more like a shedding than a disintegration. Bubba turns into a hideous green monster and stands up. Deb, who'd finished off her final opponent a while back, stands slack-jawed.

"What the fuck?," Debbie asks. Dev attacks from behind, but Bubba kicks him away with his right leg. Then he charges Debbie. Her human friends retreat, while Dev's vampires, weapons in hand, tentatively circle round the monster. Debbie is knocked down with a right punch. She gets up, leaps at his legs, and causes Bubba to fall on his face. However, she notices that the pointy spines all over his flesh cut into her in several places on her arms and chest as she threw herself into him. Dev grabs his lower right leg and tries to break Bubba's ankle. but he whips his leg and throws Devlin high into the air. When he crashes down, Deb helps him up. "Care to explain?" The three vampires stand in front of Bubba, who lashes out with his arms, causing them to back up. Dev leaps at Bubba and hits him in the ribs with a flying right kick. Debbie jumps at him from behind, putting her arms around Bubba's face. He spins around trying to get her off. It takes ten seconds before he can toss her to the ground. Dev helps her up. The five fighters stand in front of the monster. Mel and Danielle walk up and fire a combined eleven shots, putting five bullets in Bubba's chest, helping to slow him down.

"He must have been born-again as a full-blooded demon," Devlin surmises. "I've heard about this sort of thing. Never thought someone like Bubba would have the connections to pull it off." As Bubba moves forward, whichever fighter he attacks retreats, while others try to assail him in his flanks. He easily beats back these challenges. He decides to focus on the Slayer, mostly because hers is the only blood he wants to drink. He charges Deb, swipes Dev aside and knocks her down. But as he tries to get on top of her, Sidney leaps at him and drives her stave through his heart. He screams and backs up, yelping as he pulls it out and tosses it away.

"Shit," Sidney says with a sigh, noticing that a stake through the heart didn't kill him. Diego runs over and hands her his ax.

"Let me handle this," Devlin says to the Slayer. He slowly shuffles towards Bubba, ducking a right hook and taking a left fist to the top of his skull. He sinks his teeth into Bubba's mid-section and pushes him on his back as he growls in pain. Bubba runs the claws of his right hand across Dev's back. He winces as he hits Bubba twice in the face with left jabs. Bubba roars and throws the vampire to his left. He stands up and resumes his attack on Debbie. But before he can hurt her, Dev leaps fifteen feet, grabs Bubba's left forearm as he swings it forward, and bites deep into his left wrist. Bubba pounds him to the ground with his right fist. But he's hurt. He can no longer make a left fist, and Luiz takes advantage of his distraction by slicing the curved blade of his sword into Bubba's left knee before removing it and rolling forward past the demon before he can retaliate. Sidney throws the ax Diego gave her and hits Bubba right between the eyes, though the blade doesn't penetrate very deeply. He pulls it out with his right hand and swings it at Debbie, who ducks. Bubba stomps on her back, knocking Debbie to the ground. He knocks Dev away with a swipe of his left forearm, stomps Debbie again with his right foot and raises the ax to administer a mortal blow. But Paul leaps up and swings his ax, cutting off the demon's right hand. Bubba screams as blood spurts out. He can't make a left fist, but he can grab Paul round the neck and raise him in the air. He knocks Debbie away with a right kick and prepares to bite the vampire's head off.

"Leave my boyfriend alone!," Melanie yells. She gets within eight feet, aims carefully and hits Bubba twice in the crotch. Bubba yelps and tosses Paul into the wall to his right. Realizing she's next, Melanie screams and runs away from the demon and over to Paul. Devlin steps in front of Bubba, kicking him in his injured left knee. Bubba swings his left hand, clawing Devlin's chest. Danielle steps up and puts a point-blank shot into the monster's face. He recoils, then leaps at her. She screams and runs away. Luiz hugs her and stands ready to protect her. Bubba uses his terrifying quickness and power to get on top of Debbie once again. He pins down her right arm and leans in to bite her. She hits his face with a left punch, but it does little good. At the last moment, Devlin climbs on top of Bubba, pulls his head back, and strains mightily for several seconds before snapping his neck. He falls face-first to the ground, dead. Debbie gets up and hugs Devlin. Everyone takes some time to recover from the traumatic fight. After a minute, Dev feels compelled to rush the vampire with the trophy.

"I swear I didn't know. I swear, Dev!," he pleads.

"Whatever, Johnny. It's over. No one's dead. So you get to live."

"Thank you. Thank you," the sycophantic vampire replies. Dev takes the trophy and looks at the inscription.

"Nineteen ninety six. You must have have been nine when you won this," he says as he hands it to Debbie.

"And you must have still been nineteen." She pauses and looks queasy. "Let's not talk about the past."

"Especially when we got such a good future to look forward to," Theo says with a big smile. During the hectic combat, a small plastic garbage can along the right wall was knocked over. Out fell a mountain of gambling chips. "One hundred. One hundred. Five hundred. Fifty. Twenty five. A thousand! We hit the motherload!" Johnny smiles. Dev pushes him against the wall, hands him the thousand dollars and lightly slaps his face with his right hand twice.

"Get lost, Johnny."

"Don't I get a cut? You couldn't-a-done-it without me."

"This is your cut. Now scram before my friends here treat you like the vampires you snitched on." Johnny runs away. Dev walks over to the treasure, where Debbie's human friends are already congregated. "Like they say, you have to spend money to make money." The humans start to stuff the chips in their pockets.

"Not so fast," Dev commands. "Look at the back." He picks up a large handful. "Bellagio, Caesar's, Mirage, Luxor, MGM – we have to separate these by casino."

Theo empties the rest of the can. "There's gotta be hundreds of thousands of dollars here."

"We're rich!," Diego exclaims.

"No we're not," Devlin counters. "This is house money. And the houses aren't going to part with it easily. You try and cash even a thousand, and they'll find out your id's are fake."

"Since when were YOU a follow-the-rules guy?," Diego asks.

"What we are going to do is repatriate this money, for which the casinos will love us. As long as we're losing more than winning, we'll get the best rooms, the best everything. They'll treat us like fucking rock stars." He think about it. "This is gonna be one helluva weekend."

"I'm not sure we can lose this much money," Theo cautions.

"Oh, we can. And we will." He turns around and sees Sid, Luiz, Paul and Deb dismembering Bubba. Debbie is especially zealous. "He's not coming back, love." She turns around, looks at him and smiles sadly.

"He's wasn't supposed to come back the first time."

"It wasn't Bubba. It was a demon using his body. He'd lost sense of self when he changed." Devlin talks about turning from a vampire to a demon the way Buffy talks about turning from a human into a vampire.

Paul holds up Bubba's hideous severed head. "This will look great in my bedroom."

"You mean MY bedroom," Sidney objects.

"Why don't we put it in the living room," Luiz suggests. "On top of the television, perhaps." His roommates like the suggestion. Debbie leaves Dev for a moment and runs over to the two dead humans. He quickly catches up.

"I've never killed people before," Deb says, taking responsibility for Devlin's actions.

"It was them or you."

"I know. Still doesn't quite make it right."

"Yeah, well, the world's never been quite right."

NEXT: Spike meets Claire's friends.


	29. Shock of the new

Claire runs up to Spike as he walks off-stage. "I had no idea!"

"We all have our little secrets," he replies.

"I want you to meet my friends."

"I'd rather not. I'm not that good in groups. More of a loner."

"Stop hiding behind those vampire stereotypes."

"Stereotypes?" Spike's offended by this. "I'm one of a kind."

"I know! That's why I want them to meet you." She drags him to the table.

"This is Spike. He saved my life the other night." Spike fears she's showing him off like a side-show freak.

"You're such a drama queen," Edie jokes about Claire's ridiculous statement.

"When me met backstage, I thought I had seen you before. I wus right. You're all over Claire's wall."

"He's been in your bedroom?," an intrigued Anita asks.

"A poet and a muse," Spike adds. Edie appreciates the compliment.

"I'm a sculptor," Russell announces, standing up. "I work with the human form. My name's Russell." He holds out his hand. Spike pauses, then shakes it. "Ow! That's quite a grip you've got. Why is your hand so cold?"

"And this is my best friend Anita."

"Hey Spike," she causually says without getting out of her chair. "Is the coat a thing? Most people take those off indoors."

"I'm not most people."

"You want a beer?," Claire asks Spike.

"Would I be in a bar if I didn't?," he jokes. Russell's still staring at his face.

"You have a very angular bone structure." Anita feels relieved. Hopefully, Russell's interest in Spike is purely aesthetic.

"So Anita here's your best friend, pet. And Edie's your . . . special friend?" Anita snickers. She's been teasing Claire for a while now about her quasi-lesbian relationship that Claire refuses to admit is quasi-lesbian. Edie's pleased that Spike seems to recognize what she's going for with Claire. This indicates that he's not likely to hit on Claire. "So what's his story?," Spike asks dismissively about Russell.

"He's my fuck buddy," Anita blurts out. "He used to date Claire, until she found out - "

"He doesn't want a fucking synopsis of our lives," Claire interrupts, not wanting to relive that painful episode.

"You're forthright," Spike says to Anita. "I like that." She seems like a shorter, younger, raven-haired Anya. Anita smiles flirtatiously. The girl loves to flirt, especially with older, dangerous-looking men, such as Claire's brother Nate.

"Let's go get you that beer," Claire suggests to Spike. She stands up. "Come to think of it, let's all go get another round. Edie, Anita and Russell stand up. Spike wonders what's going on as Claire leads him towards the bar. And then he sees the mirror behind the bar, and stops cold.

"Oh no."

"Suddenly you don't like alcohol?"

"You know bloody well what I'm afraid of."

"You're afraid of them?," she asks with a laugh.

"I'm afraid of your friends finding out," he whispers.

"They won't kill you." Edie and company wonder what's up.

"Claire, did you get into my pot again before we left?," Russell asks.

"I'm not some attraction to be shown off and gaped at. This isn't the bloody circus."

"It's time you came out. No more hiding. I know it feels scary, but this can be very liberating." Claire's friends, off course, misinterpret this. "Come on!," she pleads, pulling him along.

"Oh, all right," he concedes, rolling his eyes.

"Stand behind him," she tells her friends.

"You got into more than just my pot, didn't you?"

"Just do it." She takes Edie's hand, gives her a come-hither look, and lures her towards Spike. "Look in the mirror."

Edie's jaw drops. She looks to her left, sees Spike, and looks straight ahead again. "Holy shit! You guys gotta see this."

"See what?," Russell asks. Anita runs over.

"Whoa!! That is a cool trick." She coaxes Russell into joining them.

"Oh my God." The four of them stand there, around Spike, and look at what's missing in the mirror. Spike groans and feels exploited, but not in a good, sex-slave way. Russ looks at his friends. "I'm not the only one who can't see his reflection, am I?," he asks nervously.

"Are you happy?," an annoyed Spike asks as he walks up to the bar.

"What's his secret?," Anita asks Claire.

"What do you think?"

"I think it's an optical illusion," Russell offers.

"That, or he's a vampire." Her three friends laugh. Anita's the first to come around.

"You're shitting me!"

"I saw him change. His teeth got bigger, his eyes went yellow, his face became all distorted - "

"And he had fangs?"

"Yeah!"

"But he didn't kill you?"

"No. He's different. He's good."

"Bullshit," Anita responds. "Vampires kill."

"Are you two being serious?," an alarmed Edie wonders.

"I should have never given you all those drugs," Russell says. "Some people's minds just can't handle certain chemicals."

Spike takes his beer and walks away. Anita stops him. "Show me."

"Show you what?"

"Change." Spike continues to walk away. She grabs him.

"I didn't say Eat Me.' Just pretend you want to." Russell misinterprets this in a most upsetting way. Claire comes over.

"Just for a second. So my friends don't think I'm nuts. I know you can. You did when you were hungry. And when you were mad. That's it!" She slaps Spike with her right hand. Other patrons hear the slap and look over.

"Claire, I'm not - "

She slaps him again, only harder. The place goes quiet as people turn to see what's going on. "Hey. Peeping Toms!," Edie calls out. "Mind your own fucking business." They do.

"Bloody hell." He changes for a second, then goes back. "Are you happy?" Russell and Edie just stare with their mouths agape. "I think these two need a few drinks."

Devlin puts on a clean shirt in the parking lot, since his other one was torn and shredded during the fight. "Why don't we get a room so we can clean up?," Debbie complains.

"Because we'd have to pay for it."

"You have money."

"They'll comp us the best room in the whole damn hotel once I blow twenty thousand dollars at the poker tables."

"They'll look at you funny once they notice you're bleeding." She takes off his shirt. "Let me get some bandages."

"That's why I'm wearing a red shirt. So they won't notice."

"You're talking to a girl who knows a thing or two about covering up cuts and bruises." She puts large bandages on two of the deeper wounds, and uses gauze to blot the blood coming from shallower cuts. All this touching and close proximity is, of course, alluring. She looks up at him. He slowly leans in to kiss her. She moves her head back.

"Why not?," he asks, flabbergasted.

"I start, I can't stop, and next thing I know, we're doing it in a parking lot."

"Wouldn't be the first time." She punches him on one of the deeper cuts. He grimaces, but manages a small, randy grin. When she walks away, he comes up from behind and puts his arms around her. She sighs. "You know how we are after a good fight. At that was a great fight." Debbie summons up the will to break free. She spins round, steps back and looks at Dev.

"It will be even better when we're all alone, in some luxurious suite." She tosses Dev his shirt and takes off her own torn shirt. He growls. "Sick, Dev." She quickly puts on a new shirt.

"That's what Buffy and Angel and all those people who don't understand us think. But you know better."

"Don't change the subject."

"I wasn't."

"Yes you were. Now keep your pants on and go lose your shirt. Figuratively." She looks through their bag of chips.

"Don't lose any more than ten thousand tonight." Debbie laughs. To hear such words, and to know that they are being said in all seriousness.

"Maybe I'm getting selfish. Maybe I'm setting myself up a fall. But I love this life."

"This is causing me to radically alter my view of the world," a still-shellshocked Russell declares. They're sitting around the small circular table, talking.

"So there a vampires," Anita responds. "It doesn't change the fundamental order of things."

"Dead people feeding off the living doesn't change the order of things? And why are you taking this so in stride?"

"I was wondering the same thing," Edie adds.

"I'm from Lompoc. It's up north, near this town called Sunnydale."

"That's where Spike's from!," Claire exclaims.

"No I'm not. But I lived there for a few years."

"Isn't Sunnydale the town that got swallowed?," Edie asks.

"Believe me, it was fucked up long before then," Anita responds. "When did you live in Sunnydale?"

"Until the bitter end. I moved there about four years before."

"So you were there when everyone got laryngitis. And when everyone was singing?"

"Everyone singing?," Claire asks. "You mean like on Ally McBeal?"

"No," a mortified Spike responds. "Nothing like Ally McBeal."

"Everyone knew crazy things happened in Sunnydale. You had to be real careful going there after dark."

"Like Watts," Russell guesses.

"Worse. Their murder rate was off the charts."

"Then why would anyone in their right mind go there?"

"They had this all ages club with great bands like five nights a week and a ten dollar cover charge. Why all those bands went there I'll never know. It's in the middle of fucking nowhere. But they did. Of course, sometimes things got out of control. My older sister went there to see K's Choice, and suddenly this female vampire with flaming red hair and a black leather bodysuit comes in, and she takes over the place."

"Black leather bodysuit?," Edie asks with a smile.

"You woulda loved her," Anita jokes. "Total lesbo. Feeling up girls left and right. And sucking the blood out of one of them, just to keep everyone terrified."

"Do you remember this?," Claire asks Spike.

"A little before my time. But I know the girl in question. And I think Edie really would go for her, and the feeling would probably be mutual." Edie smiles.

"Disgusting," Anita responds. "We're talking about a cold-blooded killer."

"So what happened next?," Russell wonders.

"Bondage girl and her gang of bloodsuckers hold everyone hostage, until some vigilantes bust in. They kill a few vampires, the rest run away, and everyone escapes. Except for that one girl, who was already dead. Carrie thinks. It got really confusing at the end. A girl walked in who looked just like bondage girl, but the other vampires thought she wasn't. And she said this other girl, some gymnast, started doing cartwheels and kicking all the vampires' asses. I think she was just in shock. I know I would have been."

"Is your older sister a lesbian?," Edie asks.

"What the fuck?"

"A vampire dominatrix. A nubile, butt-kicking Xena. It sounds like one big lesbian fantasy."

"I think it's more of a juvenile male fantasy," Russell offers.

"Russell might be onto something," Anita argues. "I've heard about butt-kicking girl' from other people. They say they know a friend of a friend who swears to God he was rescued by this Mousey Valley Girl chick."

"Mousey?," Spike asks, offended by the pejorative description. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"It means people need to believe in heroes," Edie remarks. "It makes the world seem a lot simpler." Claire glances at Spike and cracks a tiny smile.

"What do you think of this?," Russell asks Spike. "You're the one who lived there."

"I think you can't disbelieve everything you hear."

"Speaking of which, did they really try to burn girls at the stake for witchcraft?"

"And the funny thing wus, only two out of the three girls were actually witches." They think he's being facetious. Edie laughs longer than the rest.

"Witchcraft. What bullshit. Girls getting together, lighting incense and holding hands because they're too scared to admit they're dikes. Blow out the candles and lick each other's pussies already."

Willow shoots out of bed and stands up. "What's wrong, sweetie?," Kennedy asks.

"A dark cloud gathering over the Hellmouth."

"The one in Cleveland. I know. Rona and Vi are taking care of it."

"No. Not the apocalypse. Something new."

"Then Buffy will send some more Slayers and take care of that, too."

"They're in danger."

"They're always in danger. We all are. It's part of the job description. Now get back to bed."

"Not now. Too much worry. I have to consult Giles, and read books, and perform an astral casting spell."

"Tomorrow. Until then, I know a way to make the worry go away." Kennedy puts in her tongue stud. Willow smiles and returns to bed.

"Nice car," Claire says as Spike drives her home.

"It's a loaner. Company car."

"Is three human kills a week normal for a vampire?"

"What was that, pet?"

"I know you don't kill anymore, but when you did, how many did you kill?"

"I was hardly a normal vampire."

"But three a week, that's not too much?"

"Barely enough, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

"At breakfast, George said that there are 18,000 murders in America every year. He pointed out that one vampire, killing three people a week, kills about 150 people a year. That means 120 vampires living in the U.S. would double our murder rate."

"I'll take your word for it. Or his."

"I'm just wondering how many vampires are out there."

"Don't think they've done a census."

"How many are in LA? What I'm asking is, what are my chances of running into - "

"Someone with fangs roaming the streets looking to kill you? It's a city of three million. Odds are on your side."

"Especially if you're by my side." She puts her left hand on his right leg. He looks nervous. She takes it off. "Something wrong?"

"No, love."

"Is it me?"

"No, no, no."

"You're gay."

"Now where the bloody hell did you get that!?"

"You are a vampire."

"Bloody Anne Rice," he fumes. "Anyway, you're the one with the special friend."

"Emphasis on friend. Look, Edie satisfies certain . . . needs of mine. But I do have other needs." She puts her hand back on his leg and slowly slides it up.

"There's a girl. We had a rather, intense, relationship. I loved her. I still love her."

"Finally, you throw me the tiniest scrap of personal information about yourself. I also had a painful breakup I'm still getting over. With Russell."

Spike laughs. "You've got to be bloody kidding."

"I think for a while there I actually loved him. Then there was my abortion – after we broke up."

"Because you broke up?"

"No. No! I didn't know I was pregnant when we broke up. I found out a couple weeks later, and took care of it. I didn't tell Russell for a few months. And I haven't told my family."

"Don't worry. Your secret's safe. One of the benefits of being prickly is that few people try to talk to you."

"So you had a bad breakup, I had a bad breakup."

"It wasn't bad. Physically painful, perhaps. But it wusn't even really a breakup. She never told me to get lost. I died."

"How long has it been since you saw her?"

"Nine months."

"That's pretty long to go without sex. Especially for a vampire. I'm guessing. Also, you're really good looking, and it's not like you'd have a hard time, if you wanted to - "

"It's been closer to two years."

"What? I thought you and this girl - "

"Were together."

"But not fucking? For a whole year?" This sounds disgusting. What if he's into really kinky shit?

"The sex was so good we had to take a break and cool down, in order to get to know each other."

"Bullshit."

"I'm bloody serious."

"No one's that . . . " she smiles. "Or maybe you can prove me wrong."

"I'm not ready for a relationship." Claire laughs.

"A relationship? I just wanna fuck."

Spike mulls this over as he approaches her home. "You're not in the main house."

"My bedroom's in the coach house."

"Good. I'd hate for your mum to overhear us. How sturdy are your walls and floors?"


	30. Nightmares of a Slayer

Debbie and Spike dream about Devlin's killing of a Slayer, horrifying both of them, and alienating Deb from her boyfriend.

Deb and Dev's penthouse suite is looking a little ramshackle: clothes in the jacuzzi, underwear on a busted lamp, a shattered glass coffee table, an overturned couch, an overturned dinner table, and a torn-up bed, upon which the two of them lie contentedly asleep. Dev is on his back. Deb rests her head on his chest, and he has his left hand on her hair. His right arm and her left arm are outstretched, and they hold hands. The door is triple-locked. The shades are drawn, and to get on their floor requires a room key. They are safe from their many enemies. But not from their past. More specifically, from Devlin's past. He has what is more a recollection than a dream. It is August 18, 2003. He is back in Johannesburg. It is the fourth night since Buffy left. In the previous three, Hilda Grubers Botha and her Watcher Nigel Henry (Hal) Barrington exacted a terrible toll on the city's vampire population, destroying their alliance with the human criminal gangs, who were afraid of meeting the same fate, and forcing most of the surviving vampires to flee. The local community was in crisis, the Slayer was viewed as invincible, and no one was brave or foolhardy enough to try to stop her. In other words, it was the perfect moment for Devlin to act.

Wearing khaki cargo pants, a black tank top, an unbuttoned blue and white-striped short-sleeve seersucker shirt and a gold chain round his neck, Devlin walks into a busy coffee shop, his hands in his pockets, his still-wet black hair slicked back and gelled. As always, he's trying to look cool, but can't quite pull it off. He never developed Spike's talent for that. But he has developed other talents. Dev patiently waits in line, looking at the patrons and figuring out which ones to kill. When he gets to the front, a young woman asks how she can help him. He grabs her head and slams it four times into the counter, killer her. Gasps and screams can be heard. Dev shows no emotion as he changes his face and bares his fangs. He picks up the register and smashes it down onto the head of a man to his left, who was stirring his coffee. He then leaps over the counter and goes after the terrified crew, scalding a man's face with hot coffee before snapping his neck. A female employee escapes as he corners a male employee and backs him against the wall. He holds up his hands. "Arms out straight!" Dev demonstrates. The man complies. He punches the man very hard in the sternum, stopping his heart. Dev leaps out from behind the counter and runs out onto the sidewalk after the fleeing patrons. He snaps a teenage boy's neck. He chokes an old woman. Then he blocks the door to prevent the final five people from escaping, slowly walking back inside.

"You run, you die," he says. "You stay, you may live." Dev grabs a young woman, spins her round, picks up a metal butter knife with his right hand, and shoves it into her throat. The other four watch her bleed out, and one of them throws a small table through a side window and tries to escape. Dev grabs him from behind. On the way there, he throws a woman to the ground, punches a man, and kicks a fourteen year-old boy. "What did I tell you?," he says to the bulky man who tried to escape. He tries to fight, but Dev just tosses him face-down on the broken glass. He grabs a shard, shoves it through the man's right eye, listens to him scream, then hurls him face-first through the front plate glass window, eliciting more screams from terrified passers-by. He picks up the frightened boy. "You can go," he says, pushing the terrified lad towards the door. This left a light-skinned black woman and a white man. "Eenie-meenie-miney-mo. Eh. Screw randomness. I'll go with reverse discrimination." He starts mercilessly pummelling the white man. "You may leave now," he calmy tells the horrified black women. Devlin proceeds to strike the unfortunate fellow about the torso and head. He hears the sirens nearing, and knows the Slayer can't be far behind. Calculating how much time he has, Devlin pounds the chest with furious, rapid-fire punches before bring a metal table down on his head. Not precisely beating a man to death, but as close and he can achieve under the circumstances. He leaps over the counter and exits out the back door, blood splattering his shirt.

Debbie's already had a few dreams from another Slayer's point of view. So this seems like nothing special. The dreams are terrifying, since she always dies, but she chalks them up to education, a sort of virtual reality history lesson designed to keep a Slayer on her toes and prevent her from becoming complacent. She's with a man in his mid-fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a short beard. She calls him Hal, though they communicate in a language she doesn't understand. This, also, is nothing new for Deb. She weaves through the crowd and past the police to get a look at a massacre. The floor of a shop is covered in blood. Bodies lie inside and out. People are crying and wailing. It's horrible. Worse than anything Debbie's seen in real life. Hal takes Hilda's arm and leads her away from the carnage. He tells her the vampire probably escaped away from the crowd. She asks why there were no bite marks, and wonders whether it really is a vampire. He replies that the looks on the people's faces indicated the crime was committed by something they'd never seen, and never expected to see. She agrees, and follows him towards the darkened backstreets she's come to know so well during the past week. Still, it seems odd for bloodsuckers to, well, not suck blood.

Spike has Claire's back up against her bedroom wall. She stares into Spike's eyes as she pants and slowly sinks down to the floor. "Oh God. Oh my God. That was fucking amazing."

Spike's happy, but confused. "This wusn't your first time."

"No. But, yes. It's the first time I came." Spike grins and gets down on the carpet with her. Nothing burnishes a man's ego like being told you achieved what no other guy could. She closes her eyes and smiles tranquilly.

"Wut are you doing?"

"Savoring."

"Savoring's wut you do when it's all over. We've just begun."

Hilda makes a cautious right turn off an empty but well-lit street into a dark alley. Hal waits at the corner, leaning up against the side of an apartment building. Two floors up, Devlin hangs from a window ledge. He lets go of the ledge with his right hand, takes out his knife, flips out the blade, lets go of the ledge with his left hand, falls to the ground six feet from Hal, who turns towards the noise and sees Devlin. Dev stabs Hal through the neck before the Watcher can defend himself. Hilda turns round and witnesses the attack. Before she can intercede, her Watcher has fallen She cries out in grief as she runs at Dev, who turns the corner and leans against the apartment's side wall. Making a sharp right turn slows down the Slayer, and she stops before throwing a right hook. Dev grabs her arm and tosses her to the ground. Debbie can't understand what Hilda is saying, but she can feel her emotions. Right now, what she feels is all-consuming rage.

"You coward!," she yells in Afrikaans.

"Would you rather I let him see you die?," he responds her language. The voice sounds familiar to Debbie. Only when the vampire walks under the street lamp does she get a good look at him. To her horror, it's Devlin.

Clair lies on the bed. She's not conscious. "Oh no. Oh, bloody hell, no. Not this," Spike says as he kneels over her, lightly slapping her face. "Wake up, Claire. Wake up." Maybe he had been too vigorous. She wasn't a Slayer. Claire's breathing. Which is good. Finally, after more than two minutes, her eyes open, and she inhales deeply several times.

"You look scared," she notes with surprise.

"You looked unconscious."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to pass out on you. You were amazing." Claire smiles.

"Just getting the job done. Wus I too rough?"

"Oh, no. No. You were very, spectacular."

A relieved Spike lies next to her. "I wus a little nervous. That was my first time in nearly two years."

"Clearly the world's been missing out." She slides down and kisses his chest and belly. "Oh my God. You're still . . . but I though you had . . . let me take care of that."

"That's okay," Spike demurs.

"Quid pro quo. It's only fair," she replies with a smile.

"Well look what I've found," Dev announces. "A real blonde-haired, blue-eyed Nazi Afrikaner bitch." Hilda's a few inches taller than Buffy, and an inch shorter than Debbie. She wears black jeans and a green and yellow rugby jersey with the sleeves rolled up.

"You came to the wrong town. Around here, your kind doesn't get away with killing the helpless."

"I didn't come to kill them. I came to kill you. They were, what's your word for bait'?"

Hilda — and by extension Debbie — feels guilty for not saving them, as well as for letting Hal die. This was what Dev wanted: a distracted Slayer fighting on emotion. She takes two steps forward and hits him in the chest with a right kick. His back to the wall, Dev puts up his hand to protect his face as Hilda attacks, landing a half-dozen blows to his ribs and stomach before hitting his right ear with a left hook and his chin with a right uppercut. Dev knocks her back with a quick straight left kick to the chin. "I haven't drunk a drop in two days. Been saving up for you," he says as he circles rightward.

"Go to Hell!" She connects with a leaping right kick to the face, putting Devlin on his back. He stays down. She circles round him. He rotates on his back, following her so she can't come at him from the side.

"You first." He holds his arm out wide, looking up at her. "Come on, Hilda. I hear Slayers like it on top." She screams and lunges down at Dev, a stake in her right hand. He leans back and puts his feet against her waist, kicking Hilda off of him. They both stand up. Dev takes off his seersucker shirt and places it over Hal's head. She charges again, further enraged by his behavior. Devlin grabs both her arms, spins round and pushes her back against the wall. He leans his left ear against her chest. "Your heart is pounding. Sweat rolling down your neck. You really know how to put a vampire in the mood." She knees Devlin in the groin, lands two right hooks to his face and knocks him back down with a left roundhouse kick. Devlin quickly gets up this time.

It's at this moment Spike enters his offspring's dream. An intense fight to the death: this feels familiar. But the girl doesn't look so familiar. Dev blocks a left cross and a right hook, then ducks a left hook before knocking Hilda back with a right kick to the chest. "What did Buffy teach you to do against a vampire like me?" Spike knew that voice. He was Devlin. But that wasn't English he was speaking. What did Dev say about Buffy?

"Aim well," she replies, spinning the stake in her right hand. She tries a leaping right kick, but he backs up and blocks it. He then ducks a left sweep kick and grabs her foot when she tries a right hook kick. She does a back flip to free herself.

"Nothing like the courage of a neophyte." Hilda charges in and tries a right hook. Dev grabs her arm and spins Hilda around. She does a back flip to get behind him and tries a quick stake in the back. Dev spins and grabs her right wrist with his right hand when the point is three inches from his chest. "Good aim." He knocks her down with a left hook. "But you need to work on your timing." She gets up and tries a straight right kick. Dev backs away. A left roundhouse kick: he blocks it. A right roundhouse punch: he blocks it. She lands a left uppercut to his stomach and a left hook to his face. He looks hurt, but still confident. Hilda has never had a fight with one vampire that lasted this long. Combine this with the fact that her Watcher is not there to coach her through this, and it's no surprise she's feeling lost. Devlin circles left, placing himself between the Slayer and her dead Watcher. "I'm going to cut his head off. I'm going to cut it off and take it to Buffy. Unless you stop me." For once, she holds off and doesn't take the bait.

"Coward."

"I beg your pardon."

"Why won't you attack me?"

"Too predictable."

"You attack my Watcher. You attack those people. But you don't attack me. You only attack those weaker than you. That's cowardice."

"No, my dear. That's tactics." Devlin went about his business very different than his sire. Dev steps forward. Hilda steps forward. They engage. This is Devlin's first encounter with a Slayer. At this moment, he's too pumped up to be afraid. They both land blows, block blows and duck blows at a furious pace. Dev backs up and moves side-to-side, content to stay on the defensive so long as he's not seriously injured. The action is thrilling. Spike can feel Dev's euphoria. Deb can feel Hilda's desperation. She was tiring. He wasn't giving her any openings. She had to fight harder and finish this thing. When he throws a right cross, Hilda grabs Dev's arm and hurls him over her shoulder with a loud grunt. He gets to his feet and finds her already on top of him, landing two left jabs and a right roundhouse kick. He staggers but stays up. She lands a left hook, ducks a left jab, lands a right hook, grabs Dev and throws him twenty feet through the air into the brick wall of the the apartment building. Devlin finally felt some urgency as he sprang to his feet. His knees were wobbly. She kicked him in the chest, driving his back into the wall. Hilda senses victory. Debbie can feel her blood lust rise. She hates Devlin with a fiery passion. She lands a right hook kick to the left side of his head. He blocks a left hook and lands a left jab. She retaliates with a right jab-hook combination. Now they're both tired. He tries a left hook. She blocks it and kicks him hard in the groin with her left foot. As his two hands go down, she goes in for the staking. Dev pulls his left and up and catches the stake. She raises her left fist to punch the back of the stake home. He grabs her left wrist with his right hand. Their faces are less than a foot apart as they struggle, Devlin fighting for his life, Hilda for victory and vengeance.

"You have no idea how much this turns me on," he says before pushing her back. "Buffy didn't tell you about that part?," he asks with a laugh. "I say we finish the foreplay and get on with it, Hilda-honey." She lands a right hook, but he ducks a left hook and lands a left uppercut to her stomach that sends her airborne for a moment. He then blocks her right hook and lands a right cross. She answers with a left hook kick to the face. When she tries to follow this up with a right cross, he grabs her arm and spins her around before ducking under a right roundhouse kick. She lands a straight left kick to his stomach and takes the stake in her right hand. He kicks it up in the air with his left foot. Hilda executes a backwards hand spring and catches it. Meanwhile, Devlin leaps forward and knocks her down with a flying right kick. She vaults to her feet and connects with a right hook kick. Dev backs up. She approaches, but slower and more methodically than before. She tries a straight right kick, which he blocks. He blocks a left jab and lands a right hook. She answers with a right hook. He kicks her in the ribs with a right hook kick, she blocks his left jab, but he connects with a right cross. By now, they're like two punch-drunk fighters. Hilda puts the stake in her left hand and throws a right hook. Devlin grabs her fist in the palm of his left hand. When he tries a right cross of his own, Hilda sees an opening and goes for the stake. But Dev pivots counter-clockwise on his right foot away from the stake, watching it go by his chest. He then grabs Hilda's left arm and pushes her face-first into a wall, biting down in the left side of her neck.

Hilda screams. Debbie can feel her pain. After six seconds, she kicks and elbows Devlin away. He flashes a wicked smile on his face, blood trickling down his lips. Hilda turns round and tries to stay on her feet. Not surprisingly, she feels very lightheaded. For the first time since her first fight a week ago, Hilda fears for her life. "If it's any consolation, you are delicious," he says with a chuckle. Hilda staggers. Devlin growls. She's too weak to run. Her only hope lies in killing him. Dev cautiously moves within three feet of the desperate Slayer. Time's definitely on his side. No need to rush things. Spike can taste the hot Slayer's blood and feel the lust for the kill. Dev lands a right cross. A few seconds later, he connects with a left jab, all the while watching the stake in her right hand. Hilda tries a right hook kick. Devlin bags away. Hilda wobbles on the follow-through. Dev seizes his chance, leaping on top of her, pulling the stake away and pinning her down. He lies there for a few seconds, feeling her warmth as she struggles with her legs to kick or push him away. Dev lands three left hooks to her face and tears open her shirt. He fondles her chest as he drinks some more from her open neck wound, further weakening her. To Debbie, Devlin's hands feel like the most disgusting things in the world. But it's about to get much worse.

Dev pulls down her pants, unzips his, and rapes her. Hilda — and Debbie — starts to cry. Spike feels as if he is watching himself commit the act. He both enjoys it immensely and abhors himself for feeling that way. When he's finished, Dev stands up, and Spike wakes up. "Oh God, no." He looks to his right, sees Claire's creamy neck, her bright red hair, and steps out of bed, not quite trusting himself at this moment.

Devlin looks down at Hilda — helpless from loss of blood, alone, her pants round her ankles, crying weakly for someone to help her. Debbie sees how much Devlin enjoys this. Worse yet, he returns to his human face, still smiling, and slowly kneels over her, leaning down to within a few inches of her face. "You were wonderful tonight," he says, kissing her on the lips, going bumpy, and biting the right side of her neck, draining her until she's dead, and then some. When Hilda dies, Debbie leaves her body, and watches from above as Devlin continues to drink. She shoots of out bed in a cold sweat and gasps. She looks down at Devlin in bed with her, and feels sick to her stomach. Dev's eyes open. Deb punches him in the nose and stands up, quickly getting her clothes on.

"What was that for?," he asks, sitting up. She finds her stake. "Whoa!"

"I can't stay here. Not with you."


	31. Too much fantasy,not enough make believe

Devlin and Spike deal with the morning after. A flashback to when Jeta was sired. And Wesley worries about moles at W&H.

"I saw you kill her!," Debbie screams, pushing Devlin away.

"Kill who?"

"That Slayer."

"Hilda? You saw me kill — I was just dreaming about the exact same thing."

"So that's how it works? Once asleep, you go back to being your same old evil self?"

"I was a different man then."

"How did it make you feel? Right now, how did it make you feel?"

"Ashamed. And proud." Debbie reaches for the door. "I'm being honest! Should I have lied and said I was completely repulsed? Is that what you want to hear?"

"No. But it was what I needed to hear. I can't believe I've deluded myself."

"Our relationship is not a delusion. The past five months are not a delusion. They're real. We're real."

"So was Hilda."

"She was business."

"Bullshit! The way you tortured her, raped her - none of that was business. You were making her suffer, and having the time of your life doing it."

"Those were tactics meant to scare the enemy. Buffy's Slayers are prepared to die. But they're not prepared to die like that. Word gets out, and girls start thinking of dropping out."

"On some level, maybe. But at that moment, you were having fun. You got off on doing some really sick things."

"You've always known about my past."

"But I've never experienced it," she says, trying unsuccessfully to hold back tears. "When you did those things to her, you also did them to me." Dev hangs his head and steps back.

"Those bastards. Those fucking bastards."

"What bastards? You can't make excuses about this one."

"They made you dream it. They put it in your head."

"Who?"

"Buffy and Willow. It's her way of getting back. They want to separate us."

"With the truth. How devious," she sarcastically comments.

"This is playing dirty. This isn't fair. Buffy's enemies didn't make her experience Spike's or Angel's bad deeds. She didn't get raped and killed by them in her dreams. If she had, well — it's one thing to know, it's a whole other to experience. And if you walk out that door, you'll be letting them win."

"I don't believe it. You won't even take responsibility."

"I'm not that man. I've changed."

"Apparently, not enough." She leaves and slams the door.

Claire wakes up and notices the bed's empty. She figures Spike left before sunrise. Then she sees him across the room, just standing there with her back to him. He has on his pants, but no shirt. "What are you looking at?," she asks, knowing he can't look outside. Spike turns around.

"Not you. Too worried about getting tempted." She smiles and walks over.

"Why? You weren't worried last night."

"That's not wut I meant, luv."

"Oh." She looks worried. "Y-y-you wanted to bite me? It's okay. I can see how biting and fucking could become juxtaposed and confused. But the important thing is that you didn't."

"Cuz I wus over here. If I had stayed in bed. God, you smell great." She smiles and puts her hands on his chest. Spike can tell she's turned on by the danger.

"When was the last time you ate? Or, drank. Blood."

"I dunno. Yesterday afternoon."

"That's it! You were just hungry. There's a butcher a few blocks from here. I'll get you some . . . what kind?"

"Pig's blood'll do."

"How much?"

"A litre."

"Okay. Wait here." She laughs. "Like you have a choice."

"I can do it myself. Just give me one of your blankets."

"You think I'm gonna let you leave? Go shower or something." She smiles and bites her lower lip. "Yeah, that sounds nice." She puts on a pair of her jeans and grabs his black t-shirt. "You mind?" She puts it on and grabs her wallet. "You can have some of my pot while you're waiting. Can you get stoned? I know you don't breathe, but then again you smoke." She shakes her head at this seeming contradiction and leaves.

After their argument, Debbie went and played the slot machines, while Dev hung around the roulette table before heading out. He had a pre-planned pre-dawn meeting to attend. Three expensively and flamboyantly-dressed vampires approach Dev. Each of them has an assistant who remains about thirty feet back. "That was quite the lucrative mess you made tonight," Chip tells Dev.

"How lucrative?"

"Lucrative enough for us to play nice with you, even though you're going after our own kind," Gomez responds.

"That sounds like a threat."

"You wanna step on up?," Muggs asks. "We ain't afraid of your Slayer. Hell, we already got two in this town. Hasn't even cramped my style."

"Because you're smart, and they're naive. I don't swat flies. I don't save damsels and leave the big dogs kicking back safely in their crypts. I go to the source."

"Now THAT sounds like a threat."

"She knows where you sleep during the day. Need I say more?"

"Hey guys, settle down," Chip cautions. "We're all businessmen."

"Ten thousand. Each," Dev requests. They blanch.

"Maybe if you take out those two Slayers," Gomez suggests.

"I thought they weren't a problem?"

"Not yet."

"Then call me back when they are. In the meantime, I'd like my cut. Bubba controlled five casinos. That's a lot of dues-paying vampires. Not to mention protection money from houses to keep those dues-paying vampires on a leash."

"I can go up to seven," Muggs reports.

"It's a long way down to the ground from your room. About nine stories, if I remember correctly. There's a window washer who comes by every day around 2:15. Debbie shouldn't have much trouble requisitioning it. Smash and dust. Not to single you out. Chip, I hear your doorman Barry is very susceptible to bribes. Slip him a c-note and he'll send anyone up without even a warning to your guards." The vampires look at each other and decide it's not worth calling Devlin's bluff. They also look suspiciously back at their assistants, wondering who in their organizations are snitching to this guy.

"Consider it a gesture of thanks," Gomez replies. "Provided you never return."

"Truth be told, I've never liked this town. Too much illusion, but not enough make believe." This confuses the vampires. "Here are the routing numbers for the accounts." Dev hands out slips of paper, and everyone's on their way. As the sun inches above the horizon, Devlin meets Johnny under a bridge. "Did you have a good night, Johnny?"

"Definitely. It was a little tough to turn on Bubba, but I landed on my feet. All these years paying bosses, and now they're paying me."

"How much?"

"Enough."

"Five?"

"No. Three."

"Three times three plus one is ten thousand. How bout pushing a deuce my way?"

Johnny laughs. "What's the matter? The big boys stiff you?"

"What they gave me's real money. The kind that goes in a bank. I need some walking around cash."

"That wasn't part of the deal." Dev puts his left hand around the vampire's throat and picks him up.

"You're lucky I don't ask for all of it." He tosses Johnny to the ground. Johnny slowly gets up, brushes himself off, takes off his money belt and counts out two thousand dollars. He chuckles. "I figured you for a pushover. What vampire with any balls would let a Slayer lead him around by the neck?"

"The kind who's got the balls to kill one."

"Is that how it works?"

"They gotta respect you." Dev takes the money, which happens to be twice what he paid Johnny to betray Bubba. That's why Devlin insisted on squeezing out what to him is chump change. That, and Dev needed something to do to pass the time now that Debbie didn't want to be around him.

David enters Claire's room, carrying a package in his right hand. He hears someone in the bathroom. "Claire?" Spike walks out, completely naked. David's jaw drops.

"Can I help you?"

"Ahhh, ahhhh, i-is Claire here?"

"She went to the store. She'll be back soon."

"Ahh, okay. I'll leave this for her." He drops the package down on the bed. Spike puts a towel around his waist.

"How'd did that funeral go without the body?"

"Fine. They didn't notice the difference. Tell Angel thanks."

"You can tell him yourself. Didn't he leave his number?"

"Uhh . . . I guess. I suppose he did." David momentarily lost his train of while imagining a naked Angel emerging from the shower.

"Okay then. Cheers." Spike turns around, takes off the towel and dries his hair. David tilts his head and watches Spike walk into the bathroom before leaving. He sees Claire outside.

"David. You look . . . flush."

"Something came for you. I left it in your room. Which, to my extreme surprise, contained a vampire."

"Spike wasn't rude to you?"

"Hardly. He was very, open. But it was quite a shock."

"I met him at the reading last night. He writes poetry."

"Oh. How, strangely sensitive." He had pegged Angel as the sensitive vampire of letters.

"It's just a thing. We're not dating." Though, given her previous breakups, going steady with Spike couldn't end worse unless he actually killed her.

"I know I'm something of a hypocrite for saying this, but have you thought this through?"

"What, you've also spent the night with a vampire?," she jokes. He doesn't laugh.

"I've been reckless, too."

"What is reckless about Spike?"

"He's a vampire!"

"He's a good vampire." She laughs. "Can you believe we're having this conversation? If someone told me a week ago we'd be talking about these things, I would've thought they were on crack. David walks into the main house, wondering what exactly his sister is on. She enters the garage and runs up the stairs to her room. Spike has his pants back on. She takes a plastic jar of blood out of a brown paper bag and hands it to him. "The guy behind the counter looked at me kinda funny when I ordered this." Spike takes the lid off and gulps about a pint down. "Hold right there," Claire orders, grabbing her camera. "Put down the blood. Perfect." She starts snapping away. Spike's bumpy, with a trickle of blood coming down from the right corner of his mouth.

"You selling these to the tabloids?," he jokes, hoping he is joking.

"I'm an artist. Right now, I'm capturing a powerful symbol of mankind's primal hunger." He face changes back. "Damn."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Don't worry. I'll tell people it was makeup and dentures. Besides, you look much better this way. I need to take more shots of you."

"Which side?"

"Your human side. What's this?" She opens the package and screams.

"Good news?"

"The Stevenson Gallery wants to display my work!" She screams again and hugs Spike.

"Thanks, but I'm pretty sure I had nothing to do with any of it." She looks at the bed and sees Spike's stain. He feels quite embarrassed. "I can explain." Actually, he'd rather not.

"I thought you were all tapped out," she jokes. "If I had known - " She grabs Spike by his pants, pulls him onto the bed, gets on top and takes off the shirt she borrowed from him.

"Claire," Spike says, not quite expecting this level of eagerness.

"What? It's not like you have anywhere to go." She seems disturbingly turned on by the idea that Spike is her prisoner.

On a cold, windy day in April of 1943, Jeta is herded off the cattle cars and into Auschwitz along with hundreds of others, including most of her extended family. She clutches her two year-old son Harman in her arms. A camp for Gypsies has just been opened next to the pre-existing camp for Jews. Over the next seventeen months it will be the final destination for over a quarter of a million Gypsies from across Europe. Jeta yells anti-Slavic epithets at new arrivals from Yugoslavia. She is still a proud German, even if the current Germany has abandoned her. She is the seventeenth generation of her family to reside in northwest Germany, a member of the Sinti tribe that entered central Europe in the mid-fifteenth century. Her family scorned the Romani, who migrated in large numbers from the Balkans into Germany only in the past hundred years. They were foreigners. And, at first, the government saw it that way, rounding up Romani and other recent arrivals while allowing the Sinti — who were German citizens — to remain free. Her husband Stefan fought in the victorious French campaign, and was serving with the occupation forces in Holland when he and other Sinti in the army were rounded up a few months ago. Her older brothers Walther and Marko were part of the Russian invasion when it began nearly two years ago. They haven't been heard from in over a year. She doesn't know if they died in battle, were executed by their fellow Germans, or interned in some camp. While others feel fear at this moment, Jeta feels betrayal. Her family doesn't belong here with the rest of these undesirables. They're different. They're desirable. At least at one time they were.

Jeta curses at a guard who looks Polish, taunting that he should be on the other side of the barbed wire, as should she. Jeta's mother tells her to pipe down, if not for her sake, then for the sake of her child. Jeta obeys and simply glares at the guards and the fellow prisoners alike with her coal black eyes. In the cramped barracks, she ruefully explains to other prisoners that she's in a bad mood because this is her first trip outside of Germany. At dinner, she gives her meager rations to Harman. As the hours pass, anger slowly gives way to despair. Jeta accepts that she's never going to see her husband again. She accepts that there's a good chance she'll never leave this place. But perhaps there was a future for Harman. That was the one hope she clung to. That night, she sang songs to the frightened, disoriented child, trying to reassure down. He fell asleep in his mother's arms.

The next morning, when the men and women are separated and grouped into units for hard labor, Harman is ripped out of Jeta's arms. She screams and cries and tries to attack the guard walking off with her darling son, but is restrained once more by her own mother, who has seen others acting up that morning get a bullet in the back of the head. For the next week, Jeta tries to forget about her psychic pain by focusing on her physical pain, because it hurts so much less. Her mother tells her they are lucky. They've all caught glimpses of the bald, emaciated Jews in the adjacent camp. Jeta says they look worse because they've been in this hellish place longer. Her mother reports a few things she's overheard the guards talking about. The Jews are separated into male and female barracks. The Gypsy families are housed together, and not broken up by gender. The Jewish children are taken away on the first day. Their parents don't get to have a final night, as Jeta did. It's not much. In fact, it's downright perverse to be thankful for these "privileges." But Jeta lives in perverse times.

On her eighth day at Auschwitz, when the women are lined up to be marched off to work, soldiers pick out twenty young women, seemingly at random. Among the chosen are Jeta and her younger sister Ina. This group is taken away to what the guards refer to as the "lab." A doctor they refer to as Joseph arrived at the concentration camp a month before the Gypsies started coming. What he does with his test subjects the soldiers don't know, and don't care. Fewer bodies for them to process. The doctor casually points out which women will be used for which experiments, then stops most of the way through to consult with a tall, burly man in back. He has a reddish-brown beard, and appears to Jeta to be Russian. Perfect, she thinks to herself. The Nazis are conspiring with the hated enemy while killing German patriots. No wonder the war has not been going well as of late. Being a victim of prejudice has not caused Jeta to abandon her own prejudices. She'd love to be part of the Aryan super-race, if only Hitler would let her. After all, as a Gypsy, descended from people in northwest India, she's more Aryan than any blonde-haired, blue-eyed German could ever dream of being. Unbeknownst to Jeta, Heinrich Himmler, the head of the SS, agreed with her. He wanted to spare the Sinti while exterminating the Romani. A bewildered Hitler overruled him and elected to kill them all.

The filthy Russian is staring at Jeta. Joseph has her separated from the others and handed over to Ivan. She looks forlornly at Ina as Ivan drags her off. It's the last time she'll see her sister, or any member of her family. They pass through an area where experiments are being performed on creatures that don't quite look human. All are strapped to tables and undergoing various physical ordeals that would kill a human. One subject has all the skin on his right leg removed. Another has no skin on his left arm. Another has been scalped. Brain surgery is being performed on a fourth. A fifth has his chest cavity pried open, but is still conscious. "You is lucky. They not," he says in clumsy German. Seems that everywhere she goes, people tell her things could be worse. She spews various profanities and anti-Russian epithets at Ivan, most of which he can't understand. But he can tell she's feisty. And he likes that. Ivan leads Jeta out the back door and hops into a covered wagon. She is ushered into a windowless van containing five other Gypsy women. They can't see that they are being driven out of the concentration camp. When the door opens, they find themselves in a barn. Before them stand four women, Ivan and another man. They discuss matters, and take their pick. Ivan is adamant that Jeta is his. They each grab a girl. Ivan slings Jeta over his shoulder and carries her up a ladder into a room on the upper level. Two of the female vampires watch.

"I don't want another mouth to feed around here," one complains.

"He just wants her for some fun," the other one concludes hopefully.

Ivan asks Jeta to sit on his bed. She chooses to stand. He runs his right hand through her hair. She slaps his face. Ivan smiles. "I like to fight."

"Take me back, or I scratch your eyes out."

"What is your name?"

"Yetta."

"I am Ivan. Yetta, I have roamed the earth for nearly a century. Rarely do I find a woman of your beauty. And spirit." This was more eloquent than his other broken German. She thinks it's a practiced pick-up line. Except he doesn't know German numbers well, since he mention being nearly a century old.

"You have no gun."

"I do not need a gun."

"I will kill you. You will die screaming, in agony. Unless you let me go." Ivan slaps Jeta with the back of his right hand, then punches her with his left fist. She falls onto his bed. Ivan gets on top, pins her arms and spreads her legs. She cries for help, but can only hear the screams of the other women. Ivan kisses her face and neck. She feels his whiskers scratch her skin. Soon she feels something far worse as Ivan starts to rape her. She struggles, but he is extremely strong. She begins to cry, and begs him to kill her.

"Not yet. Not yet." To be touched by a gadze, or non-Gypsy, is taboo. But to be violated by one is social death. Back home, such a crime would make Jeta an outcaste. Her husband would leave her. She'd have her child taken away. The only way to preserve her honor and her family's good name would be suicide. That, and the obligatory acts of vengeance against her attacker. Now, of course, her family is powerless. As Ivan climaxes, he puts both hands around Jeta's throat and chokes her. This gives Jeta a dual hope — of quick death, and of retaliation. She scratches Ivan's face with the nails on her right hand and digs into his neck with the nails on her left. "More," he requests while continuing to thrust into her. She sticks the nail on her left index finger half an inch under his skin. But when she tries to gouge his left eye out with her right thumb, he grabs both wrists and pins them down. Her flailing legs only seem to increase his pleasure. Left with no other recourse, Jeta spits in his right eye. Ivan's face changes. Jeta screams as he leans in to bite the right side of her neck. When he's had his fill, Ivan lowers his neck onto her mouth, bringing the wound Jeta made to her lips. She doesn't know why, but she wants to drink.

Wesley enters Gunn's office late Saturday afternoon. Charles's desk is strewn with law books. "I hope you're not too busy for a fight."

"Hell no. I've been looking forward to Vegas all week. We're taking the jet?"

"Yes. But to Phoenix."

"What happened to Las Vegas?"

"I just got off the phone with my agent. Last night, Bubba and his gang were brutally slain. As well as an unidentified large green demon, whose entrails were strewn all over the vampire's headquarters."

"One less bad guy. Why isn't this good news?," he asks the worried-looking Wesley.

"We've been compromised."

"Nothing new there."

"My own organization. My inner circle. Only a handful of people knew Bubba was responsible for the werewolf attack on Deborah."

"You think Devlin did this? Bubba must've had other enemies."

"Every vampire in Las Vegas is convinced this was Devlin's work. In addition, he's been seen around town bragging about his latest victory."

"What about the computer people? We already know he's infiltrated them."

"This information was never entered into any computer. It was on a piece of paper that never left my office."

"I don't get it. What can he offer them that's worth risking their careers, and their lives?"

"Quite true. But they're not working for him. They're working against us. From day one, this has been a company in sullen rebellion against its leaders, waiting for the moment to strike."

"Even Angel's never sounded that pessimistic."

"Angel only looks above, at the Senior Partners who want to corrupt him. If he looked town, he would see a work force that doesn't give a fig about compromising a Champion's morality, and cares only about their own power and influence."

"Where's this pessimism coming from?"

"It's been gradually building. Then Fred asked me the other week how we would react to a full-scale mutiny. I had no choice but to agree with her that we'd be powerless against such an insurrection." Ironically, this idea had been put into Fred's head by Devlin.

"We'll find out when that day comes. Until then, there's bag guys to kill."

NEXT: Nina takes Oz to a gallery show, where they meet Claire. Spike talks to Angel about his Slayercide dream. And Elektra makes her way towards Los Angeles.


	32. Something in common

Devlin returns to his room as the sun rises, and finds Debbie. Awkwardness ensues. "I see you didn't go back to sleep."

"Neither did you."

"I'm nocturnal."

"So am I," Deb replies. "Seems the longer I fight, the more I become like my enemy."

"I am not your enemy! Dammit Deb. I'm your lover."

"Who says you can't be both?" Dev can't believe what he's hearing.

"You're letting them win."

"You mean the other enemy? The one that fights my main enemy?"

"The one that wants to take away your freedom and draft you into a war we're already winning."

"Good point. Wouldn't they just send me back home? Seems a lot easier than bringing in another Slayer to take my place."

"That's not how they work. They use roving teams of Slayers to sweep one city before moving on to the next. Now that she has almost unlimited girlpower, now that she's left Sunnydale, Buffy's forgotten everything she learned there. She's given up on the indigenous approach." Devlin chuckles. "Now, you're more like Buffy than Buffy herself is. Except you have far less disastrous taste in men."

"You sure about that?"

"Who knows? Maybe I'll snap after my thousandth Moment of Perfect Happiness."

"The difference between Buffy and me is, I knew the risks from the start."

"And your bet's paid off big time." He tries to touch her hand, but she stands up and scurries away. "So this is it? You catch a glimpse of what you've always known I've done, and you don't want to be around me no more?"

"I never said that, Dev. You and me, we're chained together. Like two people on a cliff. One of us falls, we take the other one over the edge with us. I just want to loosen the shackles a little."

"Are you afraid of me?"

"Please," she scoffs. "You try anything, I'll stake you."

"Are you comfortable sleeping in the same room with me?"

"If you're asking Do I trust you?,' the answer's yes. I got no choice. Remember the chains. Just give me time to recover from the sensation of you raping and killing me."

"I'm a patient man."

"You mean like how you'll lie in wait for days just to make a single kill?" Another disquieting sign that she's focusing more on his ugly past.

"You should go get some breakfast. I'm gonna take a nap. When you get back, if you don't feel safe around me, drive this stake through my heart. Cause I'd rather die than live without you." He places the stake on the night table to the right of the bed, and looks around to find two sets of hand cuffs, using these to lash his wrists to the bed posts. They'd been used for an entirely different purpose the night before, as Deb remembered all too well. Debbie shakes her head at Dev's melodramatic display.

"I can't kill you. I don't wanna fuck you. There are a lot of options between those two extremes." She gets on all fours and looks around for the keys, which she uses to open the cuffs. "I could be gone for a while, and I wouldn't want to leave you stranded." She fills her purse with still-copious betting chips, puts on her shoes and leaves the room.

"Oh well," Dev says to himself. "Least I'm not the only vampire Champion not getting any." Spike, and especially Angel, would object Devlin's self-characterization. He happens to figure that nearly eliminating vampires in a region of ten million people qualifies him, even if he is soulless and averse to masochistic self-sacrifice. But that's not the part of his statement which is demonstrably false.

Spike climbs out of bed and puts on a shirt so he can answer the door and stop the incessant knocking. "I'll be right there. Don't get your knickers twisted." He expects this to be work-related. So he's pleasantly surprised to see Claire on the other side of the door.

"Can I come in? Wait, I'm not the one who needs permission." She leaps across the threshold and wraps her legs around his mid-section. Spike backpedals, trips over his boots, and falls on his back. "Never done it on formica before."

"Couldn't we have a nice night out first?" Claire walks into the kitchen and opens a window, shining light down the center of the apartment.

"I have plans tonight. But I have, oh, ninety minutes before then. My thinking was you could help me kill some of that time. Excuse the pun."

"I been known to like girls who pun."

"It's not as if you have anywhere to go." She puts her left foot against Spike's chest, pushing him into the bedroom. Then she opens another window, effectively trapping him.

"I've also been know to like girls who are forthright about what they want." The odd thing was, Claire had been a shy girl, rarely assertive, especially in sexual matters. A few months earlier, she tried turning over a new leaf by brazenly coming on to a guy at art school she was attracted to, but it didn't work out because "The New Claire" intimidated him. But Spike is not so easily intimidated. Claire slowly steps into the band of light five feet in front of Spike's bed.

"Come here." Spike walks to within a foot of the light. Claire reaches both hands out. Spike intertwines his fingers with hers. She suddenly pulls her hands six inches back, causing his fingers to sizzle. As she expected, Spike rather enjoys the pain. After smoke begins to rise, Claire leans forward and kisses Spike in the shadows. Spike, letting go of her hands, reaches them out into the light for few more seconds, groaning and grimacing as she kisses his neck. As suddenly as she burned him, Spike spins round and hurls Claire onto the bed, leaping on top of her and putting his hot hands under her shirt. This was one creative way to get around the cold hands dilemma inherent in a vampire-human hook-up.

Another was to take a dip in a jacuzzi, where Diego and Sidney are skinny-dipping in their complementary suite, drinking complementary chilled champagne, both fruits of their profligate gambling the night before with chips plundered from the vampires they slayed. His glass in his left hand, Diego wraps his right arm around Sidney's waist and kisses her left shoulder and neck. "This is definitely the life," she happily declares.

"I love you." He kisses her on the lips. She demurs and slides to Diego's left.

"Whoa."

"What's wrong?"

"I thought we had an understanding."

"I never knew I could be this happy."

"That's the sex talking. We just screwed. You're a seventeen year-old guy getting your brains fucked out on a regular basis. Of course you think you love me. But you don't. You love what we do."

"It's more than physical."

"Don't say that."

"You're a great person. I love being around you. You're smart, funny, beautiful, unpredictable."

"Let's focus on that last one. Being with you like this is fun. I also find killing people fun. So what's to stop me from one day drinking your blood and leaving you for dead?"

"You don't want to be lonely?"

"True. But I have been lonely in the past. And it's not like I'll feel any guilt for betraying for."

"If I believed you, I wouldn't even be with you. Are you trying to break up?"

"No. No, no, no. I just don't want you to get too attached."

"Because you care about my feelings?," he asks with a hopeful smile.

"Oh God, you're right. I do. But, like I said before, that can change."

"And you could kill me. Or, sire me. Which, by the way, I'm not hoping for. I'm not that much of a vampire groupie."

"I would never kill you."

"Because, once again, you care about me?"

"No. Because you're friends with a Slayer." She puts down Diego's glass for him and put her arm around his shoulders, kissing his neck. "This is fun."

"Great fun. Huge fun."

"But nothing more."

"I can live with that."

Nina picks up the phone in her kitchen. "Angel?"

"Nina, I can't make it tonight. I'm sorry. There are demons that need urgent killing. I hope you understand."

"Sure. It's not that important. You can see my works some other night."

"Actually, I saw them last night."

"How?"

"I snuck into the gallery after hours through a skylight. Maybe we could talk about them over coffee later tonight? I should be through with work by eleven."

"Great. I'll see you then. Say, is it alright if I take Oz to the gallery?"

"Sure. Why are you asking me?"

"I think you know."

"Oh, that. I've already forgotten about that, Nina. Have a good time."

"You too. Can you have a good time demon fighting?"

"Depends on who you're fighting with. Since I'm going to be with Spike, probably not."

Claire and Spike lie in bed together, Claire on Spike's right. She's telling him about some memorable moments from her past relationships. They're both laughing. "You cut a foot off a corpse and put it in your boyfriend's locker?"

"It was already severed. The guy was a baker who died in a gruesome accident involving a dough mixer."

"As acts of revenge go, it's morbidly poetic."

"He told everyone at school that I sucked his toes. I couldn't let him get away with that."

"Who needs Vengeance Demons?" She laughs for a second.

"What?"

"Never mind." The phone rings. Spike reaches his right arm out at picks it up. "Angel." He chuckles. "Sounds like you need me." Claire wonders what that means. "Can't handle the demons on your own." That's a relief. Claire rolls over on top of Spike and nibbles on his left earlobe. "Meet you there." He hangs up.

"You don't have to leave right away?"

"Course not, pet. It's not even dark out."

Jeta wakes up inside a pile of hay. She finds her way out and brushes herself off, realizing, to her horror, that she is wearing a long red skirt and a red blouse. "Honest Gypsy girls wear red never," Ivan says in broken German. "You honest no longer." Jeta leaps at him. Really leaps. Twenty feet through the air from a dead stop. She gets on top and tries to strangle him. Ivan just laughs. Then he reaches his right arm up and wraps his hand around her neck, squeezing it as he slowly pulls her head towards him. For a while, she gasps and wheezes. But soon she gets his point that strangling is rather pointless He pushes her body away with his left hand and stands up. "You are like me."

Jeta laughs and shakes her head as she stands up. "No. I'm better that you."

"Really." He leaps on top of Jeta, spreads her legs and pins her arms. She goes bumpy and bites the left side of his neck. He likes that. "Try something fresh." Jeta stops biting when she realizes she has fangs. Ivan gets off her. She stands back up and feels her face with her hands. It's the first time Ivan's ever seen a new vampire act so self-conscious. Usually they seem to know what they are from the moment they open their eyes. "You are hungry. Let us feed." He leaves the room, then returns a few seconds later with a fifteen year-old Gypsy girl and her seventeen year-old husband. They've seen a lot of things since arriving at this awful place, but Jeta makes them scream and try to run. Ivan and his henchmen kept their human faces around the victims. He grabs the frighten youngsters and tosses them on the hay pile. Jeta circles them.

"Where are you from?," she asks in Romani. The couple huddles together.

"Bosnia."

"Bear-trainers," she spits back. Since many of the Bosnian Gyspies who came to Western Europe worked in the circus, all Bosnian Gypsies in Germany and France came to be called this. "Undercooked," she says of their lighter complexion. There is a very old Gypsy story that originated in India about how the Creator made man out of clay and underbaked him, producing white people. Then He made another man and left him in the oven longer, producing black people. But on the third try, He left the clay in for just the right amount of time and produced brown people, like the Dom/Rom/Sinti. "I like my meat raw. At least I think I do." Jeta goes for the girl, which surprises Ivan. She grabs her from behind, puts her right hand over her heart and her left hand on her stomach, lingers over the neck with her mouth open before biting down, then drinks deep. When the blood stops coming, she lies the girl on her back, fixes her hair to hide the bite marks, straightens her legs and puts her hands over her heart. Ivan holds the boy in the air by his neck. Jeta looks up at him and growls. Ivan realizes his girl's still hungry. He drops the boy. Jeta pursues in slow motion, stepping on the balls of her feet like a cat, methodically cornering her victim. He begs for his life.

"I know what you feel. I lost a husband. Don't fear me. Don't fight it. I bring you peace." She grabs the guy and bites the front of his neck, grabbing his arms as he struggles. Slowly his sinks down, and she lies on top, finishing the job. Jeta returns to her human face and wipes her mouth on his shirt tails. She walks over to Ivan. "They were doomed. I ended their suffering. Now I want to cause suffering."

Claire arrives at the gallery and meets Anita out front. "You look happy."

"Had a good day. Really good."

"Y-you're flush. Your face is - "

"Is it that obvious?" Claire feels worried.

"Are you high?" Claire scoffs.

"No. Not in the, sense that you're thinking." She leans in close and makes sure nobody's near them. "Spike crashed at my place last night."

Anita's jaw drops. "Did you fuck a vampire?"

"Quiet!" Claire looks around at the people passing by and walks away from the door and onto the grass in front of the gallery, near a large modern sculpture. "Are you crazy?"

"Am I crazy? You're the one who's fucking vampires."

"A vampire. Named Spike."

"How was he?," a very curious Anita eagerly inquires.

"Last night, I had my first, you know."

"Claire! I'm so proud of you," Anita jokes, hugging her friend.

"Then I had my second. Then I had my third. That's when I passed out."

Anita gasps. "He fucked you into unconsciousness?"

"I was just out for a couple seconds. You should have seen his face," she says with a giggle. "He must've thought he'd killed me. He looked so worried. And, adorable."

"Wow."

"Yeah. Then twice more this morning, and once right before I came. At his place."

"You came right before you came? No wonder you're in a good mood." She takes a few seconds to take everything in. "You know, this makes a lot of sense. You didn't like guys, so for a while there I thought you were going lesbo. But I was wrong. You like dead guys."

"He's not dead. He's just, differently living."

"You've spent your whole life around death."

"I assure you that he's very much alive."

"Mind if I take him out for a spin?"

"Spike is not some toy."

"Please. He doesn't breathe. He has no body heat. No heart beat. But he can get a hard on. The guy's the world's greatest Real Doll."

"Well, he's my toy. And I don't wanna share him."

After her first meal, Jeta meets the other five members of the group. Vasha, Devora and Lukina are all older vampires who joined Ivan's gang when the German invasion of the East made life too difficult and dangerous. Jobyna and Nili were sired by Ivan the previous year at the camp. None of them appear to welcome the newcomer. Ivan expects this sort of resentment from the women, but not from Vasha. "I'll still have time for you," Ivan assures him, putting both hands to Vasha's face. Once Ivan steps to the side, Vasha stares at Jeta, who calmy looks back, not understanding what he's doing.

"Fayina!," Vasha yells, meaning "free one" in Russian. He leaves the barn and escapes into the darkness. Ivan has no idea what that was all about.

"More of me for the rest of you!," he announces. The competition walks past Jeta one-by-one, sizing her up as she sizes them up. She definitely thinks she's far prettier than any of these other women. Unless Ivan goes for fair-skinned blondes, in which case Devora and Lukina have her beat hands down. But if that was Ivan's preference, why did he choose Jeta in the first place? The five of them pretty much ran the gamut of shades, shapes and sizes. Clearly Ivan likes variety. Jeta was going to see if she could change that. She grabs Ivan and kisses him passionately.

"You are my salvation! It is time I thank you for making me." She puts her hands under his shirt, rubs his chest and gazes up worshipfully at his face. He picks her up and carries her off to his room. It doesn't occur to him that perhaps she laid on her obsequiousness a bit too thick for it to be genuine.

"It's a nice ashtray," Oz jokes. Nina punches him in the shoulder.

"It's a vase."

"I know. Just jealous. I used to think I was creative. It's intimidating to finally see the real thing."

"You're just saying that."

"Yes. But I also mean it." He looks around at some of the sculptures.

"I know. It's crap. Or, it looks like crap unless you've taken the classes that teach you why it isn't crap."

"Some of these pieces are really good. I don't know which ones." She laughs.

"You're the epitome of anti-pretentious. Which is why you're perfect for something like this, where everyone takes themselves way to seriously. As they walk by the photographs, Nina stops behind Claire and sniffs her.

"I think that girl is coming onto you," Anita whispers in Claire's ear. Nina, who doesn't hear this, backs up a few steps. She can still pick up the scent.

"What's going on?," Oz whispers. "She doesn't smell like a werewolf."

"I know. She smells like a vampire." From behind, Claire looks almost exactly like Willow, which is kind of freaky for Oz.

"I guess hot blondes have a thing for you," Anita jokes.

"Shut up." Nina walks up to Claire. Oz grabs her.

"Are you sure that's smart?" He's not eager to pick a fight with a vampire without Buffy or Angel nearby.

"What are you afraid of?" She taps Claire on the back. Claire and Anita turn around, expecting a come-on.

"He's all over you," Nina begins.

"Who?," Claire asks, mildly annoyed.

"That other vampire. Spike." Oz gasps. The vampire was Spike's girlfriend. Or maybe she wasn't a vampire at all. Which seemed even more disturbing.

"Other vampire?," Claire responds, moderately annoyed. "Spike's the shit."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to get in your face like that," Nina replies, commenting on how it's Claire who's getting in her face.

"Then why the fuck did you get in my face?"

"I've met Spike."

"And what? He turned you down?" Nina bursts out laughing.

"No, no. I'm Angel's girlfriend." Claire suddenly gets a lot friendlier.

"You mean the other vampire?," she jokes.

"You've met him?"

"Just a couple days ago. I live in a funeral home, and two of our corpses came to life. Spike and Angel took care of it. Spike saved my life."

"What a coincidence. Angel saved me from being eaten alive."

"What the fuck?," Anita asks. She never heard of that around Sunnydale.

"I'm a werewolf. There were these people who liked to eat our kind."

"So does he like doing you more or less on the full moon?," Anita asks.

"That's disgusting."

"You're not dating any vampires or werewolves, are you?," Oz wonders, since Anita seems very casual about these matters.

"No. My boyfriend's just a regular old bisexual art student. You?"

"None of the above."

"You're single?"

"And a werewolf."

"Interesting," Anita replies with a smile. "Not the werewolf part. Actually, that is interesting. But you're plenty cute without fur."

"We should double date sometime," Claire suggests to Nina.

"I'll have to talk about it with Angel."

"I get you. If he's anything like Spike, he skips the whole date part and goes right to the - "

"Okay. That's a little more than I'd want to get into with a complete stranger." Nina fights off Claire's offers of friendship, while Oz parries Anita's overtures.

"When were you bit?"

"A little more than six years ago."

"So you were in high school. That must've been a nightmare."

"I had understanding friends. And a cage."

"How conscientious. Back where I was from, they always said to be careful on a full moon."

"Really. Where's that?"

"Lompoc. It's right outside of Sunnydale. The town that got cratered."

"I know Sunnydale. I went to high school there."

"Oh my God! What a coincidence!"

"Yes," Oz wearily replies. Anita's a little too aggressive for his tastes.

"How can you deny what we have in common?," Claire asks Nina.

"You go to school here?," Nina responds, avoiding the obvious.

"No. L.A. County School of Design. You enrolled in U.S.C. Arts?" Nina sheepishly nods. "Wow! Two things in common. I'm in photography."

"Ceramics." Nina's eager to point out their differences.

"The whole art school gal thing aside, we're probably the only two women in this whole fucking city dating vampires."

"I would hope so."

Jeta rubs the reddish-brown hair on Ivan's chest with her left hand and fingers his beard with her right. "I hope I made you happy."

"You did better than that," he replies.

"Let's stay today. Just you and me."

"A man needs to eat."

"Have the women bring you food. They should be waiting on you hand and foot, catering to your every need."

"You Gypsies know how to treat a man." Devora, Lukina and Nili are sent over to the camps in the back of a covered truck. Jobyna is kept around to stand watch against angry villagers while Jeta continues her campaign to win over Ivan. After he falls asleep, she gets dressed and walks over to the large doors, opening one of them partway, and setting her skirt on fire. Jobyna laughs at the foolish neophyte.

"The sun is my enemy," she says to Jobyna after putting out the blaze. Jobyna gives her a "well, duh" look. Without warning, Jeta grabs Jobyna and hurls her outside. When she tries to run back in, Jeta, kicks her in the chest with her right foot, sending her back out. "But also my friend," she adds while watching Jobyna get incinerated. Jeta shrieks twice. Ivan comes running out. "She tried to kill me. She tried to burn me up in the sun." Jeta buries her head in Ivan's chest and hugs her. Her badly scorched clothing seems to attest to the veracity of her story. Jobyna, the woman he sired before Jeta, must have been jealous.

"You ever dream about those you sired? From their point of view?"

"Sometimes. Usually as a warning. Is this about Devlin?"

"It wusn't a prophecy. Old news, actually. I experienced him killing that Slayer."

"That does sound like a warning. We need to tell Debbie."

"Nothing's changed for them. I think the dream was about me."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"I'd forgotten how thrilling a great kill could be. I'd also forgotten how vicious Dev could be. Or, maybe he's gotten worse. The things he did to her. The way he completely broke her down. Mere killing wusn't enough."

"I think Debbie's in danger."

"Are you bloody listening? They're the same. As for me, well, do you remember Claire?"

"I thought I smelled a woman on you. Wait a second. Claire, the teenage girl at the Fisher Funeral Home?"

"She's twenty. And you are the last bloke who has any bloody right to accuse anyone else of cradle robbing."

"I'm telling Buffy."

"Then I'll tell her about Nina. And Eve."

"That was a spell! Anyway, what does Claire have to with your Slayer-killing dream? She's not a Slayer, is she?" Spike takes a few seconds to fantasize about this.

"No, you stupid git. I had the dream after we'd - "

"Oh no. You think you're also Cursed?" Spike was such a copycat.

"Even if I wus, it wouldn't be that bloody simple." Spike likes to think he's complex and deep, while Angel is obvious and transparent. "There's a fine line between sex and violence. Actually, there's no line at all. Usually, they overlap. Things become confused." A large green insect demon knocks Spike down.

"Thank you," Angel says to the creature before engaging it with his sword.


	33. Fatale attractions

Claire's family tries to convince her that it's insane to date a vampire. Jeta hones her mojo and shows the other vampires who's boss. Elektra has another Slayer encounter, and teaches them a lesson, causing Giles to worry about what may be coming.

"You played lead guitar for Dingoes Ate My Baby!? Must sister loved you guys!," Anita tells Oz. "I saw you once, when she took me to a frat party at UC-Sunnydale. To be honest, I found your lead singer a little to Rob Thomas-esque."

"That's too harsh on Devon, and not harsh enough on the rest of us. Didn't you have a problem with our sloppy, amateurish playing?" Anita laughs. She seems quite taken with the Oz-man. Sure, she has a boyfriend. But that doesn't stop her from flirting. Meanwhile, Edie arrives.

"What took you so long?," Claire asks, hugging Edie and kissing her on the lips. Nina observes this, and is puzzled. But she's also relieved, since it seems Claire will finally stop trying to befriend her.

"An hour late, and already you're auditioning replacements?," Edie asks, casting a glance Nina's way.

Claire laughs. "You know no one can replace you." She smiles and takes Edie's left hand in her right hand. Perhaps she's compensating because of the guilt she feels due to her burgeoning relationship with Spike. She knows how eager Edie was about "turning" Claire and becoming her girlfriend.

Speaking of "turning," we return to 1943, and Jeta's first days as a vampire. She's still discovering her powers, including some that few vampires possess. Jeta is in the barn, sitting on the ground and passing the time by staring at a haystack. Slowly she causes hundreds up pieces to float up into the air. "You're a witch," Ivan declares. Jeta loses her concentration, and the hays falls back to earth as she turns round and stands up, fearful of how Ivan will react.

"I was never that powerful. I learned a few things from my mother."

"Was she a witch?"

"I know witches. Saying she is a witch is like saying a man is a soldier because he knows how to fire a gun."

"Do all you Gypsies know tricks?" Jeta scowls at the stereotype.

"We have superstitions. You gadze have superstitions. We both practice magic. The difference is, ours works."

"Could you make things float before I remade you?" Jeta, forgetting for the moment her strategy, glares at Ivan for his self-serving characterization of his pivotal role in her life.

"No. But now I am more powerful. I can run, leap and climb better than I ever thought possible. This is no different." She turns around. Ivan puts his arms round her from behind.

"I knew you were special the moment I laid eyes on you."

"Did you feel that way about the others?"

Spike and Angel get out of their cars in the art gallery parking lot. "Why are you following me?," Angel asks.

"I'm not following, you stupid git. I'm here to pick up my girl." Angel pauses.

"You're kidding?"

"Why the bloody hell would I do that?"

"Claire's an art student. Who just happens to be attending the opening of Nina's work."

"Nina has a show?"

"I think there are other artists."

"Everything has to revolve around you." Spike storms past Angel. Angel catches up. Both of them walk fast, each trying to overtake the other.

"I don't think you're dressed for the occasion," Angel needles.

"I'm wearing black. Since when did artists have a problem with people wearing all black?"

"I'm only saying this because I wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself in front of your new girlfriend."

"Afraid I'll upstage you?"

"Since when was I ever afraid of that?"

"You may do things first, but I always do them better. Ask Buffy."

"Speaking of Buffy, does Claire know about your obsession?"

"Does Nina know about yours? Does she know you can only shag her if you don't love her?" Angel nails Spike in the face with a right hook. "The truth hurts."

Inside, Anita's introducing Oz to her boyfriend Russell. Oz wonders why she came on to him so strong if she already has a boyfriend. Nina rejoins him, glad to break free from Claire and Edie. "I missed you," she whispers to Oz.

"Are you also feeling a little too popular?," he asks, referring to how curious Claire and her friends are about them.

"What does that mean?," Angel demands to know. "That in your mind the honorable' thing would be to cut her loose and let her be alone?"

"The proper thing would be to scuttle any illusions she might have about where your relationship is going. The girl's obviously in love with you. As bloody foolish as I think that makes her, it doesn't mean she should be punished."

"So you've let Claire know she means nothing to you?" Spike tries a right hook. Angel backs out of the way and smiles. "The truth cuts both ways, William."

"Claire's just looking for some fun."

"Perhaps. I don't see how she could expect anything more from you."

"You think they've met?"

An alarmed Angel rushes inside, as does Spike. Both of them have slime on their coats from the demon-killing. "Oh my God," Claire announces when she catches sight. "They're together."

"I got stood up for Spike?," Nina jokes to Oz.

"Don't worry. Doesn't look like they had much fun." Edie watches Claire stare at Spike and smile as he comes closer. Her heart sinks. She grabs his t-shirt, pulls Spike in and kisses him. Edie angrily stalks out of the gallery.

"Fuck," Anita comments before trying to chase down her friend. Russell, now without his girlfriend, stares at Angel. Oz tries to make sense of the complex sexual inclinations of Claire's friends, then decides it's better not to. Nina hugs Angel and gets slime on her hands.

"Sorry."

"It'll wash off." She playfully puts her dirty hands on his faces and kisses him on the lips. "Miss me?"

"You have no idea."

"The feeling's more than mutual." They both laugh. Angel walks over to Oz.

"Hope this wasn't too much of a drag," Angel tells him.

"Boring it wasn't. I met some very . . . interesting people. Some a little too interesting." Nina nods in agreement. Angel notices Russell staring at him.

"You're Angel."

"You've heard of me?"

"I'm friends with Claire. Her ex-boyfriend, actually." Oz hadn't known this. It seems strange to him that Claire's ex-boyfriend is currently dating Claire's best friend. It also seems entirely normal for this apparently incestuous group. "You have a very impressive human form. I study sculpture."

"Thank you very much," Angel replies with a smile, taking Russell's comment as a professional compliment rather than a come-on.

"I think it's time we go," Nina tells Angel. She quickly heads with him for the exit, but is cut off by Claire.

"It was cool meeting you, Nina. We should double date sometime." Angel and Spike shake their heads. "Or, maybe, head out for coffee or something. Just not on a full moon," she jokes. Angel's upset that in addition to knowing Nina, Spike's girlfriend also knows she's a werewolf.

Spike puts his left arm around Claire's shoulders. "My place or yours?"

"Yours has the stronger walls," she jokes. Angel cringes.

Theo reclines on a couch, grabs a bunch of grapes off a large complementary table of fresh fruit and lowers them towards his mouth, picking off the bottom ones. Cynthia, standing above him in a hotel bathrobe, dips a strawberry into a bowl of chocolate and bites it. "Try these." She dips another one and puts it on Theo's mouth. They kiss. Theo sighs. "What now? Is there a comped show we could be seeing?"

"I'm feeling like Icarus."

"Don't get melodramatic on me."

"We're setting ourselves up for a fall. We have to be. This is too good."

"I thought I was the worrywart and you were the one who said sit back and enjoy the ride?"

"That was before the ride got out of control. Doin' whatever the hell we wanted back home, that's one thing. Livin' like high rollers in Vegas, with fake I.D.'s and demon loot?"

"That's not why we came here. It's just a, pleasant side effect of risking our lives to save other people."

"We were saving Debbie. Not that that's not a worthy goal, but don't try to make it sound like we're doing a public service."

"How many people would those vampires have killed? How many lives have we saved?"

"Now you're starting to talk like Diego."

"And you're talking like someone who thinks we're abusing Debbie's power."

"We're sure benefiting from it."

"If you feel so guilty, why don't we go home right now?"

"I don't feel guilty. I feel, nervous. How long can our good luck last?"

Elektra walks out of a club in Denver arm-in-arm with a college guy. She starts whispering in his ear and laughing. He smiles. She takes his hand and runs with him behind the building. "Why wait?," she asks, leaping up, wrapping her legs around him and kissing him. He backs into the wall. They can hear the band blaring from inside. Elektra kisses his neck, thrusts her hands down him pants and undoes them.

"Whoa. Can't we go back to my car?" She grinds up against him and sticks her tongue in his right ear.

"What's the matter, handsome? Afraid of getting caught?" He smiles as she falls to her knees, his pulse quickening. But his expression changes the instant she bites into the artery in the inside of his left thigh.

"Aiigghhh! Bitch!! What the – owww!! – HELP!"

"Oh, gross!," a Slayer named Bianca calls out when she catches sight of the aroused man with his pants around his ankles. "As if what you do isn't gross enough." She averts her eyes. Elektra immediately puts her hands up to defend herself, bounds to her feet and faces the attack. A Slayer named Isabel attacks, but is knocked back by a quick left roundhouse kick. The victim slumps to the ground and nearly passes out from shock and loss of blood.

"He was asking for it," Elektra responds in her defense. Bianca attacks. Elektra blocks a left kick and sweeps her legs. Isabel hits Elektra with a right hook, but the vampire responds with a right roundhouse punch and a straight left kick. She backs away from Bianca, leaving her victim behind, his blood still coating her lips. "I didn't make him leave the club with me. He made the choice, he should live with the consequences." Both Slayers attack. Elektra leaps over their heads and lands behind them. "If you ladies keep saving these slutty men, they'll never learn," she argues with a wicked smile, putting her left hand in the back pocket of her white leather pants. Bianca steps forward and throws a right hook. Elektra ducks under, gets behind Bianca and brings her left arm up. Between her left thumb and index finger is a small throwing star with six razor sharp teeth. She brings her arm down and cuts the Slayer in the back of her right shoulder. Elektra then spins round, ducks to her right to avoid Isabel's left hook kick and slashes her left hamstring before she can bring her foot back down. The two injured Slayers cry out in pain. Bianca walks over to Isabel. They struggle to stay on their feet and hold out their stakes, daring Elektra to try and finish them off. Neither saw what cut them.

"Look at you," Elektra says with a smile, licking her lips and returning to her human face. "Is this the first time things haven't gone your way? Damn, are you girls gonna be in trouble when I come back here with my brother. Until then." She makes her escape.

Devlin sits at a thousand-dollars-a-hand poker table. He looks glum, and it's not because he hasn't gotten a good hand all morning. Dev looks to his left and sees Debbie sixty feet away, playing roulette. "I'm out." He folds, finishes his drink and walks over. Deb catches sight of Dev when he's twenty feet away. She thinks of leaving, but decides to stay put.

"What should I bet, blood or darkness. They're both your colors."

"I'd put my money on double-zero, but that's just me," he jokes.

"Don't all the mirrors bother you?"

"The thing about a casino is, no one's watching anybody else. Except for the house, who's only watching the cameras."

"Spoken like a man who knows how to hide."

"So it's not enough that I love you. It's not enough that I've done everything I can to make your life better. It's not enough that I've never, ever hurt you. That I regularly risk my life to save yours. Now I have to pay for things I did before we even met?"

"It's not about what you did. It's about who you are. You're the nicest, sweetest, kindest guy I've ever gone out with. But you're also a monster. It's time I stopped denying that side of you."

A horse-drawn covered wagon approaches a forest. Jeta leaps out, a long blue skirt protecting her legs, a long-sleeved yellow blouse protecting her arms, and a black bonnet protecting her head. She tosses off the bonnet once she's safe in the tree cover and dances around. "Come in, Ivan! Nothing to fear." He looks out, then jumps. She hugs and kisses him, spinning them around. He keeps letting go, but she keeps kissing him, so eventually he just gives in. "I can't resist you," she says with a smile, kissing Ivan again. Then she takes his right hand in her left hand and skips through the forest. "Isn't this wonderful? I can't believe you've never done this."

"The dogs attack and the people find you and trap you."

"We don't have to worry about that here." One of the benefits of living in a country where the people are kept down by a brutal occupation. She dances around some more and looks up at the canopy. Such a free spirit. He really likes that.

"Now what?," Ivan asks, bored by the prospects of enjoying nature.

"Wait for the prey to arrive. The people stay in at night. They know better. But they feel safe during the day." Ivan smiles. He enjoys the way she thinks. The other women just do what they're told, and never come up with an original idea.

"And until then?," he asks as they walk and listen for company.

"While you're waiting to ravage them, you can ravage me." She smiles, bites her lip and lies down on her back. Ivan leaps towards her, but Jeta rolls to her right just in time, and he ends up kissing dirt. She giggles and runs away. He chases her down, winding in between trees, until he finally catches her. They laugh and roll along the ground. He pins her arms and leans in to kiss her. Jeta turns her head to the right. "Fawn." Ivan looks to his left and sees it. Jeta smiles and raises her eyebrows. Ivan slowly stands up and stalks the animal. Jeta puts her arms around his waist and pulls him close. "Let me." He agrees, and enjoys watching Jeta chase the animal down, leap on its back, ride it to the ground and bite its throat. She moved so gracefully - nearly as gracefully as the deer. "Arati! Arati!," she yells gleefully. (Arati is a Romani word for blood.) This is her way of saying "Dig in! There's enough for everyone." He comes over and bites the animal in the back. When he finishes, Ivan sees Jeta lying on the ground, her blouse off, her chest covered in blood. "An honest Gypsy girl never wears red," she jokes. Boy, had he lucked out when she came his way.

Claire returns home late Sunday morning, feeling better than she has in a long time. Her mother, as well as her brothers David and Nate, are waiting for her at the kitchen table. "Hi Claire," her mothers says. "I'd like you to sit down."

"What is this, an intervention?"

"We're worried about you. You're young, you're adventurous, but there are certain lines no one should cross."

"Like the one between warm-blooded and cold-blooded animals," David adds. Claire is indignant.

"I don't believe this! You people are such hypocrites."

"We are?," Nate asks sardonically. "I don't remember fucking a vampire. I'm not saying I haven't made mistakes. I have. Especially when it comes to sex."

"Spike saved my life. He helped save your lives. He's not evil. He's the opposite of evil. He fights evil."

"He's much older than you," her mother points out.

"Oh, come on!"

"Even in human years."

"Is this an anti-Spike thing, or an anti-vampire thing?"

"We'd have the same problems with Angel."

"You know something? Angel also has a girlfriend. She goes to art school! At USC. I met her last night. You think her family gives her hell about theirs relationship?" Actually, they might if they knew about it.

"We just want you to think about this before jumping off the deep end."

Claire laughs. "Too late." She leaves the house and goes to her room above the garage. David heads to his Episcopal church and sits next to his boyfriend Keith.

"My sister's fucking a vampire."

"Can you say that in church?" It seemed inappropriate for multiple reasons.

"I'm serious. Remember Spike?"

"Oh no. She did it with the dud."

"Actually, yesterday morning, I accidentally saw him naked."

"Accidentally?"

"I was delivering a package to Claire. Spike was there, and he has no shame. But he does have great abs, and few really nice, tight parts."

"I thought we agreed, no more threesomes."

"Speaking of things we shouldn't talk about in church," David jokes. "I was making an observation, not a proposition. All I'm saying is now I think I understand what Angel saw in him."

"And what Claire sees." David sighs.

"I don't wanna know what she sees."

"Come on, David. Isn't it obvious? Vampires got a rep."

"What rep, and how the fuck do you know about it?"

"Ever watched television?"

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"You think she's going after a fantasy?" Keith chuckles. "What if it's not a fantasy?" David looks sheepish.

"I'd rather not think about that. This is my sister we're talking about."

"I wonder what our priest would say about this?"

"Even with a soul, they're still enemies of God. Otherwise His symbols wouldn't hurt them. And let's face it, what Claire's doing is gross and unnatural."

"People say what we do is gross and unnatural. People say we're violating God's law."

"I can't believe you'd make that comparison! People aren't born vampire-lovers." David doesn't know about Slayers.

"It's her decision. No one gets hurt."

"Not yet, anyway. What if he falls off the wagon and decides to go for the nearest available neck?"

"You could always try to kill him," Keith jokes.

"Would you help me?"

Once the sun sets, Jeta and Ivan leave the woods. It had been an enjoyable afternoon. In addition to their own revelries, a teenage girl came by to collect firewood. A few hours later, her older brother went looking for her. Before leaving, and when Ivan's back is turned, Jeta looks at the ground and causes a small stick to jump up into her right hand. She stows it away for later use. When they return to the barn, Jobyna hugs Ivan. "I was worried."

"You should be," Jeta replies with a wicked smile. Devora and Lukina have brought back a selection of six inmates from the concentration camp, whose hands are bound with rope.

"I'm full," Ivan says, gulping down vodka from a jug. Jeta puts her right arm round his waist and goes with him to his quarters.

"She's more than a novelty," Devora complains.

"The Gypsy girl has bewitched him," Jobyna argues.

"We'll deal with her in time," Lukina assures them. "Until then, more for us." The three of them dig in. The trio of victims who aren't killed at first must watch helplessly as the people they are tethered to get drained by monsters.

"Relax my brother," Jobyna says in Yiddish to a Jewish inmate, gently caressing his face. "It's better than the gas."

As Ivan lies sleeping, Jeta, who stays in his arms, calmly lifts her makeshift stake and zooms it around the room, honing her accuracy and control. Freedom from Ivan will require patience. Vengeance against against the Germans will require even more patience. Then again, it's not like she's getting any older. Ivan opens his eyes and starts grumbling. Jeta quickly drops the stake and turns to look at him, staring longingly into his eyes. "Is my hero rested?"

"Is my love?"

She sighs. "You wore me out," she says with a giggle that sounds grateful, but is in fact mocking. "I should allow the other girls to enjoy you. Would you like two, or three?" He laughs heartily. "One woman cannot satisfy you. Believe me. I have tried." She has to work very hard not to burst out laughing.

"You have done more that try. I sense fire in you, Yetta."

She smirks. "There will be fire. Until then, I'll smolder why Devora and Lukina show you their appreciation." Ivan growls as she stands up. Jeta snarls back and leaves. She points at the two vampires. "Master has requested your presence." The Romanian and Ukranian vampires speak little German, but understand Jeta, who pretends to look disappointed in order to buoy their spirits. Once they're gone, she looks at Jobyna and grins. "That leaves us."

"Yes," she replies nervously as Jeta slowly approaches her.

"You and I, we have much in common."

"I, I guess." German is Jobyna's third language, after Yiddish and Polish, but she can comprehend Jeta's words well enough. Then again, her body language says it all.

"Saved from the same fate by the same man. Torn from family. I know your loneliness. I know your fear. I know your desire."

"No. You, you don't," she replies, slowly backing up. Jobyna's never had a woman come on to her before. It seems so wrong. As opposed to killing people and drinking their blood, which seemed entirely on the up-and-up. Jeta cuts off her path to the door and tries to trap her against the wall.

"Were Devora and Lukina jealous of you? Did they resent the attention he lavished on you?"

"Yes."

"I know you resent me."

"No. Of course not." She knows Jeta already killed the other vampire Ivan sired.

"You shouldn't. Before me, there were three. Soon, there will be two. You and I. Father and daughters." This appealed to Jobyna. Except for the lesbian overtures. She had longed to get rid of the other two, but wasn't strong enough to do it on her own.

"And then there will be one?," Jobyna asks pointedly, still distrusting Jeta.

"But I like you so much. And so does Ivan. We are his. They are not. He won't care if they're gone. But I kill you, he kills me."

"I wish you luck." She tries to leave. Jeta grabs her shoulders.

"Wish me more than that." She looks Jobyna over, her eyes less than six inches from Jobyna's face. "With your beautiful, fawn-like brown eyes. Your soft, curly hair. Smooth, rich skin." She puts her right hand to Jobyna's left cheek, causing her to tremble. "It's warm. You just fed. Give me a taste." Jeta leans in to kiss her. Jobyna finally manages to duck away and flees into the darkness. Jeta leans against the wall and laughs. "A vampire. And yet still so innocent."

"Two more girls in the hospital," Giles says to Gretchen as they sit down to Sunday brunch.

"Which ones?"

"Bianca and Isabel."

"But they've been doing so well. Ten weeks without even one close call."

"I suppose it was inevitable. They'll be fine in a day or two. What worries me more is the culprit."

"Singular? As in one?"

"It appears to be that girl. The one from Chicago. Same age. Same description. Same, er, method of hunting."

"How did she do it?"

"Some sort of razor blade hidden in her hand. Neither girl saw it."

"Did they at least save a life?"

"Yes. One very embarrassed young man."

"That's something."

"True. But there is a more worrisome aspect. She vowed to return. With her brother."

"Brother? Vampires have siblings?"

"Two individuals sired by the same vampire, I suppose."

"So we add another Slayer in Denver. Someone with more experience."

"This could be the tip of the iceberg."

"You mean the Great Counterattack you've always feared."

"It's a forgone conclusion that the vampires of the world will engage in some sort of organized resistance."

"Buffy's been planning for that for months."

"Plans go out the window the moment the fighting starts."

"Rupert, every day that goes by, they become weaker, and we become stronger. We put two, sometimes three new Slayers in the field every week. And if need be, there's hundreds more we could activate on short notice."

"On paper, it looks promising. But we have no idea how most of the girls would react to adversity. Look at what happened in Orange County. Three of those Slayers are refusing to return to patrols when they're healed. Young women leave here thinking they are invincible. What happens when they discover they aren't?"

Deb and Dev leave on Sunday morning. So do Cynthia and Theo. Diego, Melanie and Danielle will continue gambling until the sun sets, making it easier for their vampire significant others to go outside. Only Devlin's car has necro-tempered glass. As he drives down the highway, Deb looks out the passenger-side window. "You know, if I open this, you'll die."

"I trust you." She opens it a crack, then closes it. Opens it again, and closes it.

"Even now, when I'm afraid of you?"

"You still love me."

"Why didn't you kill me, like you killed Hilda?"

"Because you're better than her."

"How?"

"You were more human."

"You mean helpless. Easier for you to control."

"You're not the first human I've liked."

"Did you kill them?"

"I never kill or sire anyone I like. That would be counterproductive. But you, you're the first I've loved."

"Sweet words. But don't you also love killing Slayers?"

"For you, I'd never touch one again. What we have is better than any kill."

"Oh yeah. That's romantic," she replies queasily.

"The thing about our love is I know it's going to end. At some point, hopefully in the very distant future, you'll die. And I don't think I'll want to live without you. You've made me mortal, Debbie."

"I wish. Then we really could have a future."

After scaring Jobyna off, Jeta sneaks back into Ivan's room, ostensibly to watch. He digs that. It makes her seem that much more depraved. But while she watches, Jeta furtively grabs her stake. A few minutes later, she leaves and climbs up onto the roof of the barn. She can see the smoke from the crematoria billowing into the sky. Jeta refuses to go back to the camps to pick out victims with the others, even when she knows they're not going to the Gypsy camp. Though she knows she won't encounter her family in these other camps, seeing the people might remind her of them. She's scouted the exterior, and knows she could easily break in and make contact with her loved ones. The hard part would be breaking out. While her chances would be slim, her family members' chances would be nil, since they are far more vulnerable to bullets. First things first. Jeta waits until Devora and Lukina emerge from the barn, giggling and laughing. Jeta leaps down to the ground and lands behind them. They turn around.

"Let me come."

"It's a two person job," Lukina shoots back.

"I know." Jeta tosses her stake in the air and causes it to levitate. She grins as the two vampires in front of her get scared. "Relax," Jeta says, looking at Devora. The stake shoots at Lukina. She turns and runs. The stake follows, staying with her while she twists and turns like a vampire-seeking missile. When Jeta's satisfied with this game, she sends the stake that extra little bit forward, dusting Lukina. "Shall we go?," she asks Devora, who pauses for a few seconds before running away. Jeta shrugs and goes back inside to work some more of her charm on Ivan.


	34. So you're dating a vampire

"I'm doing it the hard way. I don't need a soul to be good. I just need you."

Harmony has to tell her boyfriend that she's a vampire. Deb and Dev try to figure out where their relationship goes from here. Jeta seduces and threatens a female vampire. And we take a trip back to New York, where Devlin vainly competes with Spike for Dru's affections while simultaneously trying to get Spike to respect him.

Harmony's teenage boy toy Alex gets out of bed around noon on Sunday and walks into the kitchen. He opens the fridge, and is shocked to find nothing but bottles of red liquid. How odd. He shrugs it off for the moment and goes into the bathroom to take a shower. After that he goes back into the bedroom and kisses a still sleeping Harm on the cheek. She smiles. Then he opens a window. Harmony shrieks when the light hits her and rolls off the bed. "What you doing? Close it! Close it!!" A frightened Alex obeys.

"Sorry. Guess you're not much of a morning person."

"It's okay," she says, covering herself with the sheet and walking over to Alex. "I'm guess I'm still recovering from all the fun we had last night." Alex smiles and they kiss.

"One the best nights of my life."

"Silly me. I'm dragging these sheets along the floor, and getting them dirty." She drops them, and stands before Alex stark naked. He has that shocked, goofy, I can't believe my good fortune look teenage boys give if they're ever lucky enough to be in such a situation.

"You dropped them on the floor. Doesn't that — why am I thinking this through?"

"That's my boy."

"I'll sleep on the couch tonight," Devlin tells Debbie after they get back home.

"Whatever you want."

"You know what I want."

"All too well," she replies after a long pause.

"There should be a statute of limitations."

"On murder?"

"Well, yes. See, you changed me. I became a different person because of you. Therefore, it's wrong to hold me accountable for things I did before we met."

"I know. And I'm not."

"Wait," Dev replies after a few seconds of pause. "How aren't you?"

"I'm punishing you for not telling me the whole truth. For hiding certain . . . details from me."

"Such as me mentioning that I made her cry and beg without telling you how I made her cry and beg."

"And all those people you killed at that coffee shop."

"If I could, I would have called her to make an appointment for a fight to the death. But since that wasn't an option - Okay, bad time for humor." He paces back and forth. "If I told you that I raped her, would you have ever let me get close to you?"

"I can't say. Because you didn't."

"And, of course, love is supposed to be based on honesty."

"I wouldn't be sure about that. I still love you."

"Honesty about how we feel, in the present tense. Honesty about what we do, in the present tense. Look, I'm not like Angel or Spike. I don't have the luxury of hiding behind a soul."

"Luxury?," Deb scoffs.

"Yeah. Sure, guilt hurts and a conscience haunts, but that's a small price to pay for absolution. That orphanage I massacred, those ballerinas I tortured, you can't hold that against me, cuz I didn't have a soul when I did those bloody awful things.' I'm doing it the hard way. I don't need a soul to be good. I just need you."

"Is that a threat?"

"I thought is what a tribute."

"Bull. You're warning that if I cut you loose, you'll start killing again. Fuck me, or people will die.' That's despicable."

"I said I needed you, Deb. Not your body. I may desperately want it. But as long as you'll have me in your life, even if it's not in your bed, that's good enough for me. And don't tell me I'm the only one who wants me in your life."

"No comment." Dev smiles.

"If I walked out that door right now, it would hurt both of us."

"It would probably hurt you more, since you'd burn up." They both chuckle. "God, what have I gotten myself into?," she asks with both humor and despair.

"I don't know, Deb. No one's ever tried to do what we're doing."

"Who's fault is that?"

"The Watchers. For socially isolating the Slayers. And the vampires, of course. For being too narrow-minded and barbaric. But not the Slayers."

"They've always wanted the vampires?," she asks incredulously.

"No, no, no. They've always wanted someone to share their life, to share their risks, to share their fears with."

"Trust me, when we met, the last thing on my mind was Finally! A vampire I can fuck!'"

"I said companionship. Not fucking. That's just," he smirks, "the advanced form of companionship."

"So you think we're regressing?"

"Oh no. We're in some . . . super-advanced, ultra-mature phase. Without sex."

"Like marriage." They both laugh.

"Till death do us part. My death, of course."

"Don't go thinking you can get out of the doghouse by dying," she jokes with the casual morbidity that's become a staple of their domestic conversations.

Jeta sits on a hay bail, concentrating really hard to see if she can lift up a gas can. It jiggles a little, but does not leave the ground. Vampire life was so boring when you're not traveling, and when you aren't with somebody special. She was beginning to learn that. There was hunting and killing, but that took up at most a few hours a day. Otherwise, there was nothing to do but sleep and sit around. To live that way for an eternity felt like divine punishment. She was only a couple weeks old. How would she feel after a year? Or ten years? If Jeta didn't have her murderous plotting to help pass the time, she doesn't know what she'd do. But the plotting felt hollow. She was fighting for sole possession of a gross-smelling, ill-mannered, ugly man she despised. What could be more pointless? Not having the murderous plot. Yes, that would be far more pointless. Jobyna returns. Jeta stands up and grins. She can feel her blood rising. It's strange. Women never made her feel this way when she was human. "Is your hunger satisfied?," she asks as she slowly circles Jobyna with a predator's gaze.

"What are you doing?," Jobyna nervously asks.

"Appreciating you. You should fell honored, Jobyna. There's a reason Ivan picked you. You're beautiful."

"N-no I'm not," Jobyna shyly responds, covering her exposed shoulders with her hands. That she was prudish turned Jeta on even more.

"Not like the rich city girls on the promenade with their fancy hats and expensive dresses. In a better way. They're so fragile. You're tough. You can roll around in the mud and still look good. So to speak."

"Where are Devora and Lukina?"

"Gone. Well, Lukina's dead. Devora's never coming back. It's just the three of us. You look scared. I thought you wanted them gone?"

"I'd also want you to be gone," Jobyna responds, finally getting some back bone. Which also turns Jeta on.

"Ingrate!" She slaps Jobyna with the back of her right hand. "That's the thanks I get. Before me, you shared him with four. No you share him with one."

"Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you the first chance I get."

"I'd kill you first," Jeta responds with a wicked smile. Jobyna knows this is no bluff. Unlike the dead vampires, she doesn't underestimate the new girl's powers. But she also hesitates to leave Ivan, since she's unsure of her prospects on her own. There's German soldiers to worry about. Not to mention the locals. Everywhere she goes, everyone will be against her. And it's hard to take on the world all alone. Harder than fending off Jeta's advances.

"This is what separates you and I and Ivan from the others. All vampires have the bodies of animals and the minds of humans. But we few know how to use both. At the same time.

Alex and Harmony lie in bed, smiling and staring at one another. "You are the most . . . amazing, incredible . . . you're the girl of my dreams." Harmony feels her heart melt. She's not used to boyfriends appreciating her, let alone worshipping her. "No. You're better. Cause I've never had a dream this good." She runs her left hand through his hair.

"Well, Alex, I've never known anyone like you, either. So sweet, and trusting, yet incredibly sexy and masculine."

"I wish I didn't have to go home. I mean, I know I have to. I have school. And my life." Harmony looks worried.

"Aren't I a part of your life?"

"You're the best part! That's the thing. Being with you, it's, it's like a fantasy. Like it's not real. Better than real. Too good to be true."

"It's definitely true," she responds, getting on top of Alex and straddling him. "I'm all real. You know that." He looks up at her, his mouth agape. His breath starts quickening.

"I am, kinda hungry," he offers, appropo of nothing but his growling stomach, which for the moment takes precedence over his lower parts for the first time in nearly a day.

"I can order in."

"Sure. But I should be heading home soon. Before my parents start asking too many questions." Her instinctive response is to kill them, but she knows that would backfire. Like Sidney said, think with your mouth, not your teeth.

"It is getting late. I should probably get dressed."

"Wait," he says with a smile, putting his hands on her thighs. "Just, let me, savor the view for a few more seconds." Harmony puts her hands on his chest and stares down into his green eyes. She was feeling something entirely new. She was feeling, appreciated. Spike certainly never made her feel that way. "I could do this all day," he confesses. "But - "

"You have to get back to boring real life." She gets off him and they both get out of bed and get dressed.

"Yeah. Hey, Spring Break's in a couple weeks. I could tell my parents I'm going away with my friends for a few days and spend them with you." When she was in high school, Harmony liked college boys. Now that she's out in the world, she likes high school boys better than she did when she was in high school. Because now they treat her like a goddess.

"That would be great. Believe it or not, there's a few good clubs in LA I didn't take you to last night."

"How do you get in everywhere? And without me being carded?"

"My I.D. from work. My firm has connections."

"Could they get Lakers tickets?"

"Please, they could get Lakers." Now there's an invigorating fantasy that Harmony quickly suppresses in the presence of her boyfriend. "Oh, and if there are any bands you wanna see, Lorne — my friend at work — he can get you backstage passes."

"So you work. What about college? I thought you went to Mission Viejo?" She forgot that lie.

"Why would I have an apartment here and go to school way down there?"

"Good question." Uh-oh. He's getting suspicious.

"That's where I went to college. Sidney still goes there. She's the friend that invited me to the party."

"So you're not eighteen?" Oops. Her excuse just created more questions.

"Does it matter?"

"I, I guess not. You definitely look eighteen." That she did.

"What matters is we have a great time together."

"That we do. That we most definitely do." She puts her arms around his waist, then slips her hands a little lower. He likes that.

"You keep doing that, I'll never leave."

"Sorry," she jokes and lets go.

"Don't be." But despite how great she kept making him feel, he still had some nagging questions, and not just about her age.

"Are you on a special diet?" That gets Harmony's attention.

"Why do you ask?"

"I looked in your fridge - "

"It's a liquid diet. High protein. That Atkins thing. But more convenient. It's the hip new diet. Are the stars are doing it."

"Okay." But he didn't look convinced. He just stared to her in silence.

"What?," she asks with mock innocence.

"When I saw you sleeping this morning, you, you weren't breathing."

"That's impossible."

"I know. And your skin. It always feels great. Really great. But, strange. Not in a gross way. Just, different. You're very different. Don't get me wrong. I like it. A lot." He pauses again. "Why did you freak when I opened the window?"

"I-I-I'm grouchy when I get up in the morning."

"And why do we only go out at night?"

"I'm a night person."

"What's in the fridge?" He quickly walks to the kitchen. She zooms past Alex and cuts him off. "What are you afraid I'll discover?"

"That the diet drink tastes really bad, until you get used to it."

"It's a little dark in here. How bout I open a window?" He walks over and reaches his left arm out for the shade.

"No!" She grabs his right arm and pulls him away from the window, inadvertently throwing him to the ground, which she instantly regrets. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Alex." He gets up and backs away, further increasing her anxiety. He looks like he can't believe what he's about to say.

"Are you a vampire?" Harmony laughs. "I know. It's funny. Crazy, actually. So are you?" He stares at her. She stares back, looking tender and vulnerable. "Cause when I put everything together: how you got in and out of my room so easily, how you seem afraid of the sun, the bottles of what looks like blood in the fridge, your extraordinary and, at times, exhilarating strength. Of course, I could be wrong. Since we all know vampires don't really exist. How bout we go outside for a walk? I'll apologize for bringing this crazy subject up, and we'll have a good laugh. Like the one you just had."

"You're really smart."

"Does that mean I'm right?"

"It means, you're really smart. Which, by the way, for the first time in my life, I find sexy. And I'm not just saying that because you're about to run out of my apartment screaming."

"Can you say it? So everyone in the room is talking like they're nuts, and not just me."

She walks up to Alex and takes his hands in hers. "Alex, I'm a vampire." He lets go and steps back, looking down and putting his left hand to his temple.

"Can I have a moment? Cause, you know, it's not everyday I guy finds out his girlfriend's a vampire."

"Actually, it's more common that you think."

"That's not hard. I thought it didn't happen at all. Because vampires aren't real! And now I find out I'm sleeping with one." He walks in a circle and puts his right hand in his hair.

"Sidney's a vampire. So are Paul and Luiz. And Devlin. He lives with Debbie. So that's four people dating vampires at your own school."

"I don't know any of those people."

"Don't you go to Laguna Hills?"

"Torrance. Hey, maybe I'm spreading a trend," he jokes angrily.

"But I'm still the same girl you fell for. The same girl you've had incredibly hot sex with. The same girl who cares about you very much."

"Where are your fangs? Do you have fangs?" He shakes his head. "I'm can't believe I'm asking this."

"When I get mad, or hungry, they come out. But I don't drink human blood. They test you every day where I work, and if you fail they kill you. So I would never bite you, even if I wanted to, which I don't, though you are really hot. I don't think like that anymore. You're way much more fun alive."

"Glad to know I'm more than a meal to you," he comments sarcastically.

"Alex, we have fun together. I like spending time with you. You like spending time with me. And did I mention the sex?"

"Yeah, well, vampires are supposed to be sexy. That's how they lure you in."

"No luring. This is a lure-free zone. I've never felt this special. The way you treat me — I love it. And I don't want to give it up. Do you?"

"God, no, but, then again, can you give me some time to think about this? I need time. This is, beyond major. I have to let it sink in."

"Whatever you need, Alex. How much time?"

"I, I don't know. I'm sorry Harmony." He leaves. She slowly walks into her bedroom, sits down at the edge of the bed, and starts sobbing. It ain't easy being a single vamp in the big city.

Devlin already knew that in 1979. But he had Meg. She had this sixth-floor walk-up in the Lower East Side, but he didn't mind. Like he was going to lose his breath climbing all those stairs. It was a great relationship. She worked during the day while he spent time with his "family." Then they partied at night. They partied so hard on weekends that she was too busy sleeping it off to think of inviting him for a Sunday afternoon stroll through the East Village. It was Meg he thought of as he passed the time watching the five-o'clock news while Dru and Spike danced around their subterranean home to the Sex Pistol's "Holiday in the Sun." Chained to the wall opposite Dev is a clean-cut man in his mid-twenties. "Why do we keep leftovers?," Dev asks.

"Your mum wants to play with her stock broker," Spike explains.

"Bond trader," he coldly points out. For a young vampire, Devlin shows an alarming distaste for sadism. Watching people suffer makes him bored. "We should do experiments. I'd like to know how long a person can live without water. We could get ten people, different ages, genders, sizes, over a thirty day period and record how long it takes each of them to croak." Spike walks over and playfully grabs Devlin's spikey black hair.

"Hard to believe it's my blood inside you."

"What are we still doing here, anyway?"

"Wut's this? I thought you loved the Big Apple?"

"I do. But how bout a little break? Let's go find that new Slayer and kill her." Dru pinches his cheek and smiles.

"He's yours awl right," she jokes to Spike.

"Chip off the old block," Spike says with a smile, reversing himself. "One day you'll snuff out one all by yourself."

"And what better way to learn how than to help you do it?"

"Listen to this one. He's never even battled his first mob, and already he's chomping on the bit for Slayers."

"They grow up so fast these days," Dru quips. They both laugh and continue dancing.

"The Sex Pistols suck," Dev call out to get daddy's attention. "Paul Weller could kick John Lydon's ass."

"Wut was that?" Dev stands up and walks over to the old man. Dru moans excitedly.

"Naughty boy. Naughty, naughty boy," she says with approval.

"They're fake. Creating by clothes-store owner to push his knick-knacks. They're the Monkees of punk rock." Spike hits Dev in the face with a right hook.

"How's that again, boy?"

"And you copied your hair from that guy in Generation X. Right after we saw them open for the Damned." A right jab to Dev's nose, then a left hook he ducks under, landing a left uppercut to Spike's chin.

"Really," Spike responds with a sneer. "Well the Jam aren't even a bloody punk rock band."

"You take that back!" Dru squeals with excitement. Dev charges Spike. He throws the boy to his left. Dev crashes into the wall a few feet to the left of the captive. "Would you recommend five or ten year t-bills in this inflationary environment?," he asks before ducking Spike's left jab. He yells in pain when his fist hits the stone. Dev grabs Spike's hair and bashes his forehead into the wall. "How about corporate debt versus muni bonds?" Dev gets in front of Spike and throws a right cross. Spike grabs Dev's fist and throws him across the floor. As he tries to get up, Spike kicks him in the mouth. He then puts his left hand under Dev's chin and his right on top of Dev's head.

"Say when," he starts twisting Dev's neck. Dru gets worried. Dev defiantly stays silent, merely spitting out blood like a fountain. Spike twists the neck a bit more.

"Don't take my bluebird," Dru pleads. Spike chuckles.

"You know what your bluebird's problem is?" Dev tries to get up, so Spike puts his right foot into Dev's back and forces him down face first. "He doesn't know wut he bloody is. Devy-boy still thinks he's human." Spike puts his foot on Dev's head. Devlin goes bumpy, grabs the foot and bites Spike in the ankle. "Ow!" He backs away and grimaces before smiling. Dev stands up, all nice and bumpy. Dru loves it.

"I know what I am. And I know what I can be."

"Then why do you waste your time with humans?"

"You mean Meg."

"If you like the bird so much, just sire her."

"You don't get it." He looks at Dru. "I've been spoiled. I can't help comparing every vampire girl to the first one I met." He puts his right hand on her left cheek. She puts her left hand on top and sighs. Spike rolls his eyes. "And as you can guess, they've all been found hopelessly inferior. Dru cuts her right cheek and lets Dev lean in for a lick. When he goes to kiss her on the lips, she puts her right index finger across his lips. He opens his mouth, takes the finger and sucks it. Dru slaps him with her left hand.

"Bad boy." He smiles. Spike laughs and makes out with Dru to annoy Devlin. Dev walks up to the bond trader and literally rips his throat out, putting the man's Adam's Apple on his tongue, which he sticks in and out. The blood covers the dead man's clothes and drips on the floor. Dru finds the gore delightful. Spike just finds it wasteful and puts his left hand around Dev's neck, lifting him up in the air. Dev laughs.

"You think that's funny? Ruining other people's toys?" Dev spits the Adam's Apple into Spike's face. He lets go of Dev and starts laughing, then knocks him down with a sudden right hook. Dru wraps her arms around Spike from behind to calm him down.

"Our happy home smells loik viscera again." Dev confidently stands up.

"Look who's making her happy, daddy." Spike lands a left cross to Dev's mouth.

"Play nice with the boy, William. Remember how you were at that age?"

"He needs a pet." Dru's eyes light up.

"What happened to the last two pets' you brought me?"

"Remember?," Spike asks with a chuckle. "You keep their scalps under your bed."

"It's fun watching a vampire as its brain dries up." Spike sees a twinkle in the boy's eyes. Yes, he does have cruelty. Even if it is misdirected against his own kind. Spike puts his hands to Devlin's cheeks.

"Someday you'll make me proud."

"When that comes, will you tell me?"

"I won't need to. You'll know." Tears start to well up in Dev's eyes. Spike pushes him away and turns around. "Bloody hell!! Why do you have to ruin everything with feelings?"

"What's wrong with that? People have feelings."

"That's EXACTLY wut's wrong with that!"

"The more I'm like them, the more I understand them, the more I can hurt them."

"Listen to our Black Prince," Dru says with pride.

"Kids," Spike begins. "One minute you want to rip their heads off. The next . . . you don't." He couldn't bring himself to express affection that openly, since Spike only believes in romantic love.

"You two got plans?," Devlin asks.

"CBGB's. Where else?"

"Who's playing?"

"The Heads."

"The Talking Heads?," Devlin exclaims with disdain. "Those new wave sell-outs! How could you?"

"Their singer gives me tingles. Remoinds me of William when we first met."

"You don't even own any of their albums." And then Dev remembers what sorts of fans the sell-out new wavers attract. "You're just going for the high-school girls."

"What's wrong with combining work and play?"

"What work? You want work, let's go find that Slayer."

"Remember wut you were loik when Angelus told you about them?," Dru asks, fondly recalling.

"We don't use that name around here."

"Where's that Darla girl?," Dev asks. "I bet she's lonely."

"You think she'd welcome a pipsqueak like you with open legs?"

"No," Dev replies with a devious half-smile. "But isn't that the point? She never respected you. How bout we teach her some respect?" Spike finds the idea momentarily intriguing. He's impressed by Dev's revenge fantasy, but worried that all of Dev's revenge fantasies still revolve around other vampires.

"I don't go for blondes," he shrugs.

"Neither do I. But that's not the point."

"And, pray tell, what is the point?"

"Destroying the order of Aurelius. Pruning the family tree of its diseased branches." Dev dreams of the three of them killing all of the Master's vampires before killing the Master himself.

"Again, I ask, wut's the point?"

"Gotta have someone to fight."

NEXT: Elektra is sired, and meets her brother. Harmony meets Claire. And Elektra arrives in LA.


	35. The Hunt

Gunn and Wes have a very close call out in the field. Harmony starts to worry when Wesley begins purging Dev's agents from W&H, while Dev wants her to do him yet another favor. Back in 1979, Elektra meets Spike. In 2004, Elektra makes her first splash in Los Angeles.

"I think it worked," Willow says on the phone to Buffy.

"How can you be sure?"

"I have a feeling. Usually my feelings are on-the-mark when it comes to spells."

"Do you feel' that she killed him?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. She's seen the real him. What happens next is up to her."

"What if it backfired and he killed her?"

"She's still alive. I checked. Assuming she does turn on him, what next? I don't think the other girls will welcome her in Rome."

"Especially the ones with shattered knee caps. She'll stay put. I'll flight out and talk to her."

"That'll put you awfully close to you-know-who."

"Maybe, while I'm in the neighborhood, I can give him a chance to explain himself."

"He's not evil, Buffy."

"I know. There's context and, funky alliances of convenience. Like I said, I'll give him a chance."

At their Monday morning meeting, Angel notices Gunn's right arm is in a sling and Wesley's using crutches. "What happened," he asks with concern. "Trouble in Vegas?"

"Vegas was already taken care of," Gunn notes with mild frustration. "Three guesses who."

"How?"

"Apparently Devlin's infiltration of this firm is more widespread than previously thought," Wes reports with more-than-mild frustration. "This morning, I'm having everyone in my unit sing for Lorne."

"Why would anyone risk their job – their life – for that . . . boy?"

"He's probably not the only one they share information with."

"So the injuries?"

"Phoenix," Gunn replies.

"You told me you didn't need backup," Angel reminds Wesley.

"We didn't. At least not for the vampires."

Gunn and Wesley crouch outside a gated McMansion in the Phoenix suburbs. With their weapons on their backs, they scale an eight foot-high metal fence. Wesley has the slightly more difficult time of it. A human security guard walks over to check out the noise. He sees two human figures, but before he can radio that there are intruders on the property, Wesley shoots him in the neck with a tranquilizer dart. He drops the pistol and they continue on to the house fifty yards ahead. "Look at this lawn," Wesley whispers. "Full. Lush. And in the middle of the desert."

"Keeping up appearances."

"And these floral arrangements," he marvels as they close in on the house.

"Guess Angel's not the only vamp who watches Home and Garden," Gunn quips.

"We've been thinking about a down payment on a house," Wes confesses, revealing where his interest comes from.

"You and Fred?"

"With our combined salaries, we can certainly afford something in a nice neighborhood. Not Brentwood nice. But perhaps Baldwin Park. Or San Marino."

"How bout we discuss this after the bad guys are dead?," Gunn suggests as they crouch in the bushes along the right side of the house. Wes peaks through a window.

"There here is." Gunn also takes a look.

"Makin' some sort of deal."

"He walks out, we walk in?"

"I got the front. You get the back."

"Shouldn't we stick together?"

"I get their attention, you take 'em by surprise. Or vice-versa."

"What if there's not a door in back?"

"Blow a hole in a window. You didn't lug that piece all the way from LA to kill vamps. Might as well do some good." They split up. Gunn crouches to the left of the porch, and grabs a small stone. When the "client" leaves, he reaches up and places the stone in the doorway so it doesn't close. When the guard inside bends down to see and remove the obstruction, Gunn runs up the stairs onto the porch and kicks open the door, hitting the guard in the nose. He enters, holding out his crossbow. To his left, in a grand hall thirty feet long and twenty feet wide, two vampires put their hands halfway up. Raul, who is bigger than the other two (and also bigger than Gunn), chuckles. The man guarding the door, who appears to be human, grabs his nose and backs up.

"One arrow, four of us," Raul notes. He's wearing a double-breasted burgundy suit with a black silk shirt, buttoned to the top, with no tie. Gunn aims at his chest. "Something tells me you're not going to fire."

"Not yet." A guard at the back door turns around and opens the door to see what the commotion is. Wesley comes at him from behind and beheads the vampire with an ax.

"You're not alone," Raul says to Gunn. "When's your backup coming in through the skylight?," he jokes, pointing upward.

Wes walks through the kitchen, into the dining room and throws the ax through the long hall and into the thick wooden door. The two vampires to either side glance with alarm to the their right and look at the ax. Raul stays calm. "He's not," Wesley replies. The vampires look their left at the new arrival.

"Oh, that's right," Raul remarks. "I don't have a skylight. I'm a fucking vampire." He laughs. "And you're not." The man with the bloody nose, who stands in front of Raul, reaches into the front of his belt and pulls out two pistols. Gunn hits the deck, and on the way down is winged. Wesley leaps to his right, and is hit in the leg. The gunman rushes into the hall, pointing the pistol in his right hand and Gunn, and the one in his left hand at Wesley. Gunn hides on the other side of the staircase as four bullets whiz by him, two ricocheting off the bannister. He points the other weapon at Wesley, but is hit in the chest by Wesley's saw-off shotgun before he can pull the trigger. Raul watches with dismay as his ace-in-the hole flies back towards the door and falls dead. Gunn stands up, aims and fires his crossbow, dusting the vampire to Raul's right. "What kind of person brings a gun to a vampire fight?," he jokes about Wesley. Raul charges Gunn, while the other vampire goes for Wes. Gunn steps out, grabs the ax from the door, and looks down with dismay at the dead human being at his feet. "That's murder," Raul jokes. He ducks the ax and hits Gunn with a right hook. "THAT'S self-defense." Charles kicks him in the chest.

The other vampire slowly follows the blood trail. Wesley's back is against the wall. He's thrown down the table to protect himself. The vampire picks it up and prepares to smash it down on Wesley. But Wes shoots him in the knees. The vampires screams, drops the table and falls down. Wes crawls over and blows his head off, killing the vampire. Raul, who's grabbed the ax handle and pushed Gunn against the door, hears the two shots. He was trying to choke Charles with the handle, but now spins his opponent around to put him between Raul and the shooter. He looks at the dead man. So does gun, who kicks away one of the pistols. Raul picks the other one up, but Gunn cuts off his hand before he can fire with the ax in his left hand, then swings and beheads the vampire.

Fred, who's already heard the story, takes Wesley's right hand in her left hand when she hears it again and is reminded of how close he came to not making it home. "How did you get to the hospital?," Angel asks.

"Called for an ambulance," Gunn answers.

"What about the police?"

"You'd be amazed how many questions a Wolfram & Hart badge can answer," Wes explains. "Actually, you shouldn't, since you run this place."

"Wolfram & Hart doesn't have a Phoenix office," he reminds them.

"They know about us just the same."

"Is anyone else sick of vampires using firearms?," Angel asks, with an obvious reference to Devlin. Then he thinks back to his previous point. "You break into a home, you kill a man, and they let it slide?"

"He wasn't exactly a good guy to begin with," Wes remarks.

"Still . . . taking a human life. That's not something to be taken lightly."

"I am well aware of that. But it's not like he gave me any choice in the matter."

When the meeting is over, everyone leaves and walk by Harmony's desk. "Good like finding your snitches," Angel says to Wes.

"It's only a matter of time before they're all caught. And dealt with." Harmony gets nervous.

"What's that mean?," Fred asks.

"The status of human employees is deal with by Chester in H.R. Demons who betray the company are summarily executed." Now Harmony's petrified.

"You go get 'em, Wesley!," she offers with a forced smile, trying to show her loyalty. "Loose lips sink ships. And . . . law firms."

"Thank you, Harmony," Wes responds equivocally before leaving.

"Any messages?," Angel asks. Harmony practically jumps out of her chair when she sees him right above her.

"Here." She hands him some notes. "All written down. Just like a good, loyal employee would." He goes back into his office. This wasn't supposed to happen. Devlin never mentioned getting caught. First Alex, now her job. Harmony's world was falling apart. "I hate Mondays," she says to herself.

A little after one in the afternoon, Claire walks in. Harmony's typing and looking at her computer screen. "You missed the meeting, Spikey," Harmony says before looking up. "You're not Spike."

"You noticed," Claire deadpans. "Is he around?" Harmony stands up.

"That depends. Who are you?"

"Claire Fisher. Angel and Spike did a job at my house last week." Harmony slowly walks out from behind her desk and steps up to Claire.

"And what job,' exactly, did you perform to repay him?"

"Look, can you just page him or something?," Claire says condescendingly.

"You don't get to order me around." Harmony goes bumpy. Claire shrieks and quickly backs up. Harmony slowly walks towards her. Claire reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small crucifix she's been carrying since nearly getting killed. "Oh, get over yourself, you scared little girl. I'm not gonna kill you. At least not here." She savors the look of terror in Harmony's eyes, then goes back to her human face. "Can't you take a joke?"

"I sense jealousy."

"On me? Please, if anyone's jealous, it's Spike. He wouldn't be doing you if he wasn't upset about me sleeping with Alex. I get a human, he gets a human. Although I didn't expect him to get one who looks like a lesbian. Not in general, but a certain one in particular. I had no idea Willow was his type."

"Are you Harmony?"

"Spike mentioned me?," Harmony asks, twirling her hair and doing a bad job of appearing disinterested.

"You're the rebound girl, in between Buffy and what's-her-name." Harmony goes bumpy again, and sees Claire tremble.

"I'm sorry. Have I - ?," she feels her face, then goes human. "Silly me, I had no idea. By the way, most of what I did with him was pity sex."

"Why did he pity you?" Harmony laughs.

"I pitied him. Poor Spikey, couldn't fight his enemies. Couldn't even hurt a person. Then there was his whole sad, sick fixation on Buffy. Did he tell you about her?"

"You mean the girl who's missing out? Yeah, he mentioned her." She tries calling Spike again on her cell phone. "You still seem upset. Didn't he break up with you, like, a couple years ago?"

"I broke up with him."

"Another reason why you shouldn't be jealous."

"I am NOT jealous. Just . . . surprised. You know, he's only doing you to get back at me."

"You have someone. Then why are you trying to scare me away?"

"For your own good," Harmony extemporizes. "Things with him don't end well."

"Actually, they usually end spectacularly," Claire replies with a smirk. "That's sorta why I'm here." Ouch. "I think that's your phone ringing," she adds, pointing to Harmony's desk. Harmony snarls and retreats to do her job. Just then Spike arrives. Claire kisses him.

"Got your message. Wut are you doing here?"

"I have two hours to kill before my next class. Oh, and I thought I'd return these." She holds out Spike's handcuffs. He smiles. Harmony rushes over.

"Harm, do you mind?"

"It's okay," Claire tells him. "We've met."

"You have?," Spike asks with worry.

"I said hello, she threatened by life." Spike glares at Harmony.

"No, I didn't."

"Either that, or I really turned her on," Claire jokes.

"As if. I'm not gay. And, if I were, you would so totally not be my type. By the way Spike, where you With Fred?"

"Umm, yeah."

"He has a thing for her."

"Is she the one who tried really hard to give you your body back?," Claire asks, putting her right hand on Spike's stomach.

"Okay Spike. You and Miss Slut-o-rama have fun now." Harmony returns to her desk.

"Don't worry about Harm. She's all bark." That's hypocritical, especially coming from Spike. The two of them walk off. "So Claire, wut did you have in mind?"

"Surprise me."

"We have a dungeon."

Claire appears overwhelmed by the suggestion. "That's a little extreme. "Then again, so's fucking a vampire."

Meg comes downstairs and meets Devlin on the stoop outside her apartment building. She's five-foot-eleven, two inches taller than Dev, powerfully built, with a foot-high red mohawk. She kisses him, wraps her legs around him, and laughs as Dev leaps down to the street. Meg know Dev's not-quite-normal, but doesn't know how not-quite. He's never showed her his other face, and never introduced her to "mom and dad." Dev tugs playfully at her studded collar, she punches him in the face, he puts his left arm around her waist, she puts his right arm around his shoulders, and they walk down the street. Meg has a nose ring connected to the earing in her right earlobe by a chain. Dev treasures his punk Amazon in ways he thinks Spike, with his more restricted, conventional view of beauty, couldn't understand. Spike would probably say Dev's drawn to Meg cause he yearns for a girl to dominate him. Despite this, Dev believes he's rebelling against dad by dating Meg. That's a lot of what attracts her to him.

"How's my guy?"

"Not great."

"Why not?"

"I missed you." She gives him a noogie.

"Sap." She kisses him. "Ya know that's what I dig about you."

"That, and my ability to clear a bar room with my fists."

"Okay, you're a sap who kicks ass. What's on tap, tonight?" He shows her the tickets. "The Ramones! I thought that was sold out?"

"I told you I knew people."

"You're the best."

"Don't I know it." She pushes him out into the street. A car honks its horn and swerves to the left to avoid him.

"Damn! I wanted it to hit you." They both laugh. Early in their relationship, Dev impressed Meg with his ability to play in traffic and take a licking but keep on ticking.

Meanwhile, at CBGB's, the Talking Heads are pounding out the pulsating opening chords of "Psycho Killer." Spike enters through the front door. The doorman says hi, smiles, pats Spike on the back. Of course he doesn't need a ticket. The bartender shakes Spike's hand. As he walks through the club, heads turn to look at him. Several more people rush to greet him and pay their respects. He makes his way to Drusilla, who's swaying to the music. Spike grabs her from behind, bites her neck, licks the blood. She turns and smiles, cuts his cheek, and licks the blood. Then they kiss passionately. If this were anyone other than Spike and Dru someone would have told them to cut it out and get a room. But CBGB's is Spike's room, even when he's not crazy about the band. Hell, he's not here for the band:

"Psycho Killer

Qu'est-ce que c'est?

Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa, fa-fa-fa-far-far better

Run-run-run-run, run-run-run away."

Spike holds Dru from behind and scans the room. A girl in back has promise. She's tall and lanky, with light brown hair and big blue eyes. Maybe a tad awkward, but definitely a looker. "Someone's won a prize at the circus, and the ride's still going. I spilled cotton candy on my dress. Mummy's going to be mad," Dru says, switching from nonsensical glee to nonsensical fear.

"That's nice, doves," Spike offers before approaching the girl, who is being hit on by a guy in his early twenties she obviously doesn't want anything to do with. Spike grabs the earing in the man's left earlobe with his right hand and pulls him away from her. The girl laughs.

"Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!," the man complains.

"Maxi, Maxi. When will you ever learn?" Spike tosses Max out the front door and follows him onto the street. Max goes bumpy. Spike does likewise. "Are you actually trying to scare me?," Spike asks with a laugh.

"You can't treat us like this."

"I can treat you and anybody else any bloody way I want to. You know why? Cuz if it wasn't for me, all you wankers would be dead."

"You killed that Slayer two years ago. It's getting old."

"So, apparently, are your come-ons. Do us both a favor and don't come back. Cuz if you do, you're not walking out." Max stares at Spike for a couple seconds, then turns and walks away, fuming all the while.

"Comeuppance!," he yells, raising his right fist. "It's coming! Remember Like a Rolling Stone'!" Spike returns to his human face and chuckles. He never was much of a Dylan fan. Besides, he could never become the poor sap in that song who goes from being feared by all to being powerless, alone and hungry. Actually, he's always hungry, but never has a problem satiating himself. Spike returns to the club, and to the girl.

"Sorry about that."

"Thanks," she replies with a smile.

"I'm Spike."

"Alexa." He takes her right hand and kisses it, a corny gesture she wanted to scoff at before looking into his eyes. She laughs nervously.

"He's a real creep. Hope he didn't upset you."

"No. It was funny the way you pulled him away. That was cool." Spike can hear her heart rate quickening. Very good sign. All the punks Alexa had meant were gross. But Spike wasn't gross. He was cute. Hot, even. And exotic. Definitely nothing like any of the guys in Montclair.

"I bet a pretty girl like you gets hit on by wankers like him all the time." Alexa pauses. She doesn't know what a "wanker" is. But Spike is definitely paying her a compliment.

"Sure," she replies sarcastically. "I gotta beat them off with a stick."

"You'll find a mace works much better." She laughs.

"You're funny." Actually, he was being quite serious. "You're name's funny, too."

"My mum called me William. Spike seemed to have a little extra kick to it. Don't you think?"

"Yeah," she replies, trying to remember to breathe. "I, I suppose. It's cool. And, and you're cool." Spike smiles.

"You have no idea." He walks away. Alexa stares at him as he walks through the crowd towards Drusilla. She gets a little disappointed when she sees them get close. Alexa's two friends come up to her. The band starts playing "Memories Can't Wait."

"Who's the boy?," Jackie asks.

"Lex has got a crush, Lex has got a crush," Tammy sings.

"Shut up. He's not a boy. And he's, like, totally older and, we weren't even flirting. He was just being a nice guy."

"I like the blonde," Spike says to Dru.

"Oiyes on the proize, my sweet."

"You think Alexa's worth it?"

"Little darling's got the hunger. She'll make a fine addition."

"You said that last time. I'd hate to see another pretty girl lose her scalp." Spike's being disingenuous. While he disapproves of Dev destroying his creations, he likes the sadistic manner in which the boy disposes of unwanted playmates. Though Devlin has so far disappointed Spike with his cold, clinical approach to killing and his need to maintain personal links with humanity, he still has high hopes for the lad.

"They'll be others. The pretty girls awlways fall for you. Just loik Angel." Spike does not like that last line. He pulls Dru's right arm behind her back and twists it.

"Take that back."

"Harder. Harder," she pleads. Spike twists her arm some more. He realizes her remark was probably just an attempt to bait him into hurting her.

"I'm scared," Harmony says to Devlin on the phone when she gets home.

"Those two guys just got transferred. They didn't even get a pay cut."

"I won't be so lucky. I'll get a head cut. As in cut off."

"Relax, Harmony. They're only probing the security and mystical departments. And none of them are gonna flip because none of them know anyone else in the network. You're safe. You're beyond safe. They'll never even get close to you."

"What if I have to sing?"

"You're a crappy singer."

"I am not!"

"I've heard you. You are. And that's a good thing. It makes him less likely to read you. No one likes to listen to bad singers unless they can rip on them on national television. You're safe. Isn't that cool? Don't you love the feeling of getting away with it?"

"I haven't gotten away with it yet."

"But when you do?"

"Okay. You're right. As usual."

"I got another job for you. Don't worry. It's got nothing to do with betraying your boss. I want you to infiltrate the San Diego vamp scene. Or what's left of it."

"Go undercover?"

"Not too undercover. You're a vampire. You work for Wolfram & Hart. I want to exploit that. Word is the vampires down there think I'm one of the good guys. You'll play one of the bad guys. Flash your credentials, and my guess is they'll be eager to get help from the big bad law firm."

"But I can't offer them anything."

"Other than yourself. Let's face it: your hot."

"Thank you. But I'm not sleeping with vampires for you."

"You won't have to. They'll be dead before the week's out. I just need to know locations. Maybe have you lure them into my net. I can pay you for your time, if that's an issue."

"How much?"

"A thousand a vampire." Harmony gasps. "No one's ever said working with me doesn't have its rewards."

Elektra enters a champagne bar to the raunchy chords of Matthew Sweet's "Does She Talk?":

"She's just your size, she's sexy, she's beautiful, does she talk?

She's just your size, she's sexy, she's beautiful, does she talk?

Cause man you can't teach a slithering snake how to walk.

"Did she lick your palm to tell you your fortune tonight?

Did she lick your palm to tell you your fortune tonight?

You know sometimes it just isn't worth putting up a fight."

She struts towards the bar, all glammed out: bright red lipstick, blue eyeshadow, mascara, curled hair that makes her look like she's out of film noir, a short, low-cut red dress, red stiletto heels, and a red handbag. To a trained eye, she looks like a predator. To the untrained eye, she looks like the prey. A handsome man in early middle age spins round in his leather-cushioned bar stool and smiles. Elektra smiles back, reaches her right hand out and grabs a cocktail umbrella that she starts twirling. "Hi there," he says.

"Hi yourself. You in the business?"

"Which business would that be?" He thinks she's an escort. She'll make him pay for that.

"The only one in this town."

"I'm the Vice-President of productions over at Universal."

"You and a hundred other schlubs. I may be young, but I'm not naive."

"I never thought you were. Do you have an agent?"

"Yeah. He can't find me anything."

"I find that hard to believe. You radiate star quality."

"Just one big break and I'll be the next Scarletta Johansen. Heard it all before."

"The key is knowing the right people."

"And you're one of them?," she asks doubtfully.

"Why don't you ask - . . . " And so he begins name-dropping, and Elektra begins pretending to be impressed. A little over an hour later, he's driving her back to his Malibu home. While most other vampires treasured innocence in their victims, Elektra preferred depravity. The best part was, the victims selected themselves. Any guy eager and willing to take advantage of the ingenue Elektra pretended to be deserved to have the tables turned on him.

"This is nice!," she marvels. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Where do you live?"

"I share a motel room in North Hollywood with two other girls. I'd hardly call it living." She grabs his shirt, pulls him close, kisses him and smiles. He also smiles.

"Would you like to come upstairs?" She raises her eyebrows to show eagerness.

"Okay." In his bedroom, they kiss a little while longer, he puts his right hand up her thigh, and she unzips his pants and licks her lips. "Close your eyes. No peaking," she adds playfully, running her left hand through his hair and her right hand down his chest. He starts to tremble with anticipation. Elektra grabs hold with her right hand.

"Oh . . . oh yeah . . . oh, yeah." Elektra goes bumpy. "That's good. Oh, Ow, Ow!! Aigh!!!" She bites the right side of his neck and quickly drains him, dropping his corpse on the bed, face up.

"I'm seventeen, you're forty five! Creep." She goes through his pants pockets, takes his money, a few of his credit cards, and his car keys, then walks downstairs, sits on his couch and watches some tv. A slow, boring night. But things were about to get a lot more interesting.

NEXT: Elektra goes after Devlin, Spike and Angel, each in a very different way.


	36. Impress Me

"You're a murderer. And a rapist. But you're also the nicest, most caring, most giving man I've ever met. Which probably says something really bad about my life."

Back in 1979, Devlin impresses his girlfriend with his ultraviolence, Elektra gets sired and becomes a very quick study as Spike and Dev put her through her paces. In the present day, Deb and Dev continue their testy working relationship, while Elektra makes a forceful impression on the local vampires and seeks to go mano a mano with a very different Spike.

Meg and Dev emerge from a club in Hoboken where the Ramones have just performed. Devlin sings "Sheena Is A Punk Rocker" and dances goofily down the street. Meg punches him in the back. "Dork," she jokes.

"Gosh, that almost hurt."

"You want me hit you for real?"

"Yes, please. But first, let's hit someone else." Meg smiles.

"Who'd ya have in mind?"

"There's a biker bar up in Bayonne."

"Cool. How we gonna get there from here?"

"My car."

"You don't have a car."

"In Manhattan. But I got one on this side of the river near the PATH terminal."

"No you don't."

"Okay, maybe it's not mine. Maybe it's stolen. But I got the keys." He takes them out. Meg belts him in the stomach. "Ow!"

"Told you I would." Dev smiles and shakes his head. "You comin'?," she turns around and asks. He's crazy about Meg. She digs all the bad boy aspects of his personality he could never have pulled off as a human. At the same time, she's not fully aware of how bad Devlin really is. For instance, the car's a souped-up GTO he acquired in Yonkers after killing the owner. Always careful, Dev only drives it outside New York State to minimize the chances a cop will recognize the make, model and plates. This minimizing of risk is an example of why Spike sometimes thinks Devlin's a lost cause. But what Dev's about to do is an example of what gives Spike hope. The sprightly punk picks a fight with a half dozen bikers by knocking over their hogs like dominos.

"Oops. Wait. I meant to do that." At first the men look at each other, not-quite-believing this pipsqueak is picking a fight with all of them. Dev then smashes his left foot into the back tire of one of the bikes, breaking several spokes. "What do I have to do to get your attention?" The man whose bike he stomped on slowly and menacingly approaches. Dev just stands there, looking up at his opponent. The man grabs Dev's throat with his left hand. Devlin reaches his left hand out and rips off a tuft of his opponent's beard. The man screams and pounds Dev in the face with a right hook. He takes the blow and answers with a right jab to the nose, breaking it. "My old lady hits harder than that!," he taunts. Two men take out knives and come at Devlin. He kicks one in the chest with his right foot, ducks a knife slash for his throat and puts that guy on his back with a right uppercut. "Don't let me have all the fun," he says to Meg. She rushes up to the man Dev punched in the nose, kicks him in the groin and punches him in the mouth. The three remaining men converge on Devlin. One stabs him in the stomach. He decks the biker with a right hook and knocks another guy back with a right roundhouse kick. The final man decides to go for Dev's girlfriend. She hits him in the jaw with a right cross. He picks her up by the neck and takes out his knife. Meanwhile, Dev lands three vicious right hooks to the man who stabbed him, but gets stabbed in the back while he's at it. Dev turns around. The man's shocked by Dev's lack of reaction.

"That hurt." He connects with two left jabs to the nose and a right cross that knocks him down. Grabbed from behind by the man he kicked, Dev flips that guy forward onto his back, then notices Meg's peril. "Drop her now, or you'll never walk again." He turns around, holding her up as a shield and putting his knife to her throat. The men Dev injured rise to their feet and prepare to take him out.

"Don't worry. We'll take good care of her. After we're done with you." Devlin leaps over the man's head, punching him in the lower back. He drops Meg, spins and slashes with his knife. Dev grabs his right arm and breaks it. The man goes down. Devlin takes a left hook from another man, then picks him up, holding him in the air for all to see. By now, they've all concluded he's definitely on something. He hurls this man through the air, downs two more with right and left hooks, puts another biker in a headlock and drives his face into Devlin's left knee. The final man who remains standing comes at Dev with a dagger in his left hand. Meg grabs his left arm, knocks the dagger out, then hits him in the face with a right elbow, left jab and right hook. Devlin knocks him unconscious with a left uppercut.

"Nice work, babe," he tells her.

"You weren't so bad yourself." They kiss.

"Wait. I'm not finished." She backs away and rubs her hands in expectation. He picks up a Harley and drops it on the back of the man who held his girl at knifepoint. The biker screams. "I warned you, pal. By the way, I've always thought calling oneself an Angel' was kind of girlish," he adds, a dig at his victims and at his mom's sire. By now, the men inside the bar have heard the commotion. Several have come outside. Devlin walks around, punching out two men and ramming another one's skull into the pavement when they try to stand up. Fearing reinforcements, Devlin picks up another bike and hurls it towards the onlookers. Meg rushes over and takes his right hand.

"Come on Dev. Let's beat it before the cops get here." Dev goes bumpy for the benefit of the spectators while his back is to Meg, then returns to his human face before turning around to give her a big victory smooch before running to their car and jetting off towards the isolation of the Meadowlands. On the ride there, she's all over him. Meg isn't aware that one of the men Devlin provoked is now crippled for life. All she knows is that he beat the crap out of some guys who had it coming, and did it masterfully.

Devlin had to work hard to impress women. Spike, on the other hand, just had to look at them. He approaches Alexa just as she walks outside. "Enjoy the show?," he begins harmlessly enough.

"They were great."

"The Heads aren't my cup-a-tea. They're a little soft."

"I-I guess. If you're into harder stuff."

"This your first time?" First time doing what?, she wonders. "At CBGB's."

"Yeah. It was nice. A little dirty. And some of the people - "

"Weren't exactly YOUR cup-a-tea."

"Not all of them," she notes with a nervous smile. Spike grins. Jackie and Tammy meet up with her.

"You ready to jet, Lex?"

"Gimme a minute, okay?" They walk off and leave their friend to flirt harmlessly with the dangerous-looking older guy. "I really should get going soon," she says to Spike. "Gotta catch the last train."

"To where?" Alexa giggles.

"Where do you think? Can't you tell by my accent?"

"You Americans all sound the same to me."

"You're a funny guy, umm, Spike. And sweet."

"Heard it all before, love. A girl like you must have very high standards." She giggles again, gets nervous about where he thinks this is going, and decides to shift the subject.

"Where's your girlfriend?"

"My what?"

"You know. That woman in black you were dancing with."

"You mean Drusilla? She's just an old friend. We go back to London. You should meet her. If you think I'm a laugh riot." To Alexa, this sounded all weird and kinky and New Yorkish.

"And then what?," she asks. "I think I'm a little too young to get into Plato's Retreat," she jokes about the notorious sex club.

"That's really not my scene, love. It's a little too uptown. I'm not really into coke and disco and bacchanals."

"Me neither," she responds as they stroll down the sidewalk.

"Good to hear from a wee little lass of sixteen."

"I'm seventeen."

"Still too young for me." He wants to dispel the notion that he's trying to get into her pants.

"Then why waste all this time chatting me up?," she asks with a mischievous look.

"It's nice talking to someone who isn't jaded. Everyone around here says they've bloody well already seen everything. The scene's not wut it was. It's nice to see someone who can still get excited about the music."

"We're always a little behind the curve," she says about her fellow suburbanites. "Two years ago I was going through my Lief Garret phase," she confesses. "Look, it's been nice talking to you, but I gotta get to the subway station. Which, I think, is the other way."

"But my car's this way. Let me give you a ride."

"I don't know. My friends are probably waiting for me." Spike sees Dru standing forty feet behind Alexa, Jackie in her right hand and Tammy in her left.

"Have it your way. But first, something to remember me by?" Spike walks up, puts his right hand behind her waist, his left hand to her right cheek and kisses the awestruck girl, who, after initial hesitation, kisses back. Spike pulls his head back after ten seconds. Alexa tries to catch her breath, her eyes closed and her mouth open and smiling. Spike goes bumpy and bites the right side of her neck. Alexa's eyes shoot wide open. She gasps in horror and winces in pain. When Spike lets go, she collapses. Spike stares down at the girl and smiles. Dru runs her right hand through his hair and pulls his head downward. He bites her right breast. She yanks his head away and kneels, taking Alexa into her arms and suckling her. As Dru sings a lullaby, Spike approaches Jackie and Tammy, whom Dru has sampled and weakened but not killed. He finishes them off. The great thing about being downtown at this hour was that the streets are deserted, making it possible to do something like this on the sidewalk. When Drusilla is done playing mommy, she buttons her coat up, stands and carries Alexa in her arms. Her hair falls most of the way to the ground.

"Her hunger is strong," she tells Spike, who returns to his human face and kisses her.

"She's got beautiful eyes. Just like her mum."

"Our beautiful baby girl."

"Wouldn't get too attached, love."

"Nonsense, William. Your boy will love his sister. You couldn't resist this face. How could he?"

Elektra kicks open the door of a small, abandoned blackbox theater that has been converted into a large, windowless loft with electricity and running water. She's wearing tight black leather pants and a purple short-sleeved silk top. Her purse is slung over her left shoulder. Four men turn away from the television and notice the stunning intruder. "What can I do you for?," one of them asks.

"I'm moving in." The men smile.

"Hey, what the hell. The more the merrier, right?" She stares dismissively at them with her sunken cheeks, pursed lips, tight jaw and calm but intense eyes.

"You didn't let me finish. I'm moving in, so all of you are moving out." The men laugh.

"Says who?"

"Me." They laugh some more. She pulls out a switchblade. They snicker. "You jokers have until this hits the wall to leave. Or else you die right here."

"Let's not resort to violence, babe, and do something you'll regret."

"No my name ain't babe." She thinks of completing the Janet Jackson allusion, but decides against it. Too dated. She stabs the knife into the wall.

"Oooh," the men say. Elektra unzips her purse, reaches in with her right hand and takes out lipstick, which she applies. "Okay, we get it, you're hot," the vampire in front of her says. "But looks can't kill."

"No," she replies, putting the lipstick back. Then she reaches in her left hand and pulls something else out, which she conceals from the vampire. "But these can." In her left hand are three Chinese stars. She takes them one-by-one in her right hand and beheads the three vampires furthest from her. The remaining vampire tries to punch her with his right fist. She blocks it. Elektra also blocks a left cross and right hook before grabbing the vamp and throwing him face-first into the wall. Then she takes her knife out and sticks it in the back of his neck, severing his spine and dusting him. Her new home vacated, she settles in.

Ninety miles to the south, Deb and Dev's gang pulls off the Fletcher Parkway in La Mesa, a large suburb just to the east of San Diego. They enter an industrial park off of Case Street. "Factories and warehouses," Deb notes. "We needed a paid informant to tell us vampires live here?"

"Yes. Because the vampires are in storage lockers over there," Devlin explains. They step out of his car. "Not a bad spot. A half-mile from a hospital, with its burgeoning supplies of human blood. Within a mile of three bars. Centrally, yet comfortably, isolated."

"Like some place you'd choose to live, in the old days?," she asks suspiciously.

"No. They may have three layers of protection. But once those are breeched, there's no escape route. Always gotta have an escape route."

"Even now?" Devlin looks disappointed by Debbie's continued anxiety.

"Where's the snitch?," Diego asks as the gang approaches Devlin and waits for instructions.

"Hiding behind that shrub, just inside the front gate. And I prefer not to belittle my allies until after the job is done."

"You're not paying him enough to belittle him before?," Sidney asks.

"Come to think of it, I am," Devlin jokes. "Back in your cars, everyone. We're driving up to the front door." Dev approaches the gate first, and the vampire opens it from the inside. They drive up to a large shed and get out again. "How ya doin' Roy? You look nervous."

"You're late."

"No I'm not. If I were late, you'd be dead."

"Here's what you want." He hands Dev four slips of paper. "Now give me what I want."

"When they're dead. Don't worry. You'll get your money. I have a rep to maintain." Dev walks over to the gang, who've unloaded their gear. "Pick a card, any card." Deb, Sid and Luiz each take one. "Find that barrel, shoot that fish." Bobby uses his key to unlock the front door. It's past two in the morning, and Debbie worries her friends may be too tired. But Dev insisted that an earlier raid might not catch all the vampires at home. They each head to the selected numbered lockers, which are all in different aisles, so no group of fighters can see the other or get help, which causes some nervousness among Debbie's friends, even though they have their vampire honeys to back them up. (Diego, Theo and Cynthia are with Sid, while Danielle, Paul and Melanie are with Luiz.) When they're "home," the vampires take off the outside lock and connect it to a chain inside the six-by-ten crypt-like space. Sidney and Luiz pull the doors a foot off the ground, but then the chain catches it. They hear growling inside. Diego and Paul use the wire cutters to snip the chains. When the door opens, a vampire leaps on top of Diego, but Sidney quickly stakes him in the back. She helps her boyfriend up.

"Just like we planned," he jokes.

"You make a really great diversion."

"Is that all I am to you?" Sidney smiles and puts her right hand to his face. Theo looks at Cynthia, worried about whether his pal's relationship is getting too serious.

"Join the club," Cynthia responds, practically reading his mind. She's had the same fears about Debbie for months.

Before Paul and Luiz could open the door, the vampire slithered under and made a run for it. Melanie and Danielle put two crossbow arrows in his back. The two vampires head off their quarry at the end of the hall and tackle him. Paul holds his arms while Luiz stakes him.

"They make a really good team," Mel notes.

"We should double date sometime," Danielle responds.

"You mean like a couples patrol?"

"Yeah."

Debbie puts aside her wire cutters and uses Slayer strength to lift up and bend the door open. The vampire leaps out and knocks her across the aisle into the door of the locker behind her. "Slayer!"

"Slain." She knocks him back inside with a right kick to the chest and a left roundhouse kick to the stomach that sends him into the concrete wall at the back of the locker. She turns the lights on, blocks a left cross, ducks a right jab, lands three right hooks and a left jab, then takes out her stake and finishes him off. Meanwhile, Dev uses his left foot to lift the door up a foot before reaching the wire cutters in to snap the chains. He catches a vampire napping on a full stomach. The startled vampire opens his eyes.

"You're being evicted. If you resist - " The vampire leaps at Devlin, who bashes its skull in with repeated blows from his metal tool. "You will be killed." Dev walks back out of the locker, grabs his four foot-long wooden stave and stakes the woozy vampire after he gets to his feet. "They never let me finish," Devlin jokes. Which is unfortunate for the dusted, since Devlin's almost always willing to make deals. Everyone meets up outside, psyched by their late night triumph and the brief thrill of deadly danger.

"So where's my money?," a still-agitated Bobby asks. Dev reaches into the pockets of his black trench coat. "Four vampires, four thousand dollars." He pulls out four stacks of twenties wrapped in rubber bands. "Now spread the word: the Slayer came out in force and slaughtered all your friends. You were lucky to escape." Devlin bludgeons Bobby's right cheek three times with the heavy wire cutter, then pounds the left side of his face once, after Bobby goes down. Deb sees the sadism in Dev's face. She never noticed that before because it's always directed at vampires, and therefore seemed proper. Now she realizes cruelty is cruelty, whoever it's directed against.

"Ow! Ow!!! What the hell, man?"

"Got to make it look realistic. Or else they won't take you seriously. Dev pulls Bobby to his feet, lands two left jabs to his nose and a right cross to his mouth. Sid, Paul and Luiz smile, which their significant others don't notice. Dev takes out a small knife, cuts a gash in the left side of Bobby's face, and runs him through with the stave, missing his heart by an inch. "That should do it. Now off you go." Dev grabs Bobby from behind and throws him down the road. He falls down, gets up and limps away. Cynthia's also alarmed by Devlin's actions, though Theo and Diego seemed get a kick out of them. Dev heads to his car, and soon everyone's driving away.

"Why did you have to beat him to a bloody pulp?," Debbie asks. "Other than, of course, cause you liked it."

"It's called scaring the locals. There's a couple vamps in Lemon Grove. A few more in Spring Valley. Bobby tells them what happened in La Mesa, and then those vampires flee the area in fear. Less work for you."

"If you know where they are, why don't we just kill them?"

"Dead vampires don't spread fear. The point is to create a panic, to show that no demon is safe from your wrath."

"Except for the ones I live and work with." She thinks about the inherent contradiction of a Slayer allied with soulless demons in order to kill other soulless demons.

"Is that was this has become? A marriage of convenience?"

"Dev, I've never said anything even close to that."

"But you've thought it."

"No, I haven't."

"It's good to have some muscle around."

"Dev, you're not muscle."

"Fine, insult me some more."

"Why do you have make this any harder than it already is? Yes, you make me sick. But yes, I'm also in love with you. And I need you for a lot more than your brute strength."

"Yes. There's also my tactical cunning." She laughs. He laughs.

"You're a murderer. And a rapist. An unrepentant murderer and rapist. And everyone else in my line of work thinks you're quote-unquote evil.' But you're also the nicest, most caring, most giving man I've ever met. Which probably says something really bad about my life. But it's the truth."

"Love gets you twisted."

Spike and Dru stand under some trees in Central Park, looking at a mound of dirt. "When's this girl gonna pop?," Spike asks. "I can't wait all night."

"She'll be worth it. Loik Dev."

"I'm not so sure he's been worth it." Dru slaps his shoulder.

"Bad daddy."

"The boy's sullen."

"He has no one to play with."

"Dev doesn't know how to play. The word's not part of his bloody vocabulary."

"Patience, my sweet. His future wreaks of death. I see him coated in blood, dancing and writhing and squirming." Dru starts to dance. "Lakes of tears, rivers of viscera."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh, the places he'll go!," Spike replies sarcastically. Alexa reaches her right hand out of the ground. Dru hops up and down and claps as the girl slowly climbs out of the ground and wipes off the dirt. She is barefoot, wearing a long black dress. The outer strands of her hair are braided and tied together on the top of her head, giving the effect of a halo. She looks around and gets her bearings, ignoring Spike and Dru, much to their consternation. After fifteen seconds, she speaks her first word.

"Mine." Alexa races northward, snaking around trees, towards the fountain with the giant angel in it which Spike is not fond of. A homeless man turns around. He yells and tries to run away, but Alexa wraps her arms around his body and sinks her teeth into the right side of his neck. Spike and Dru smile. He puts his right arm around her shoulders, places a cigarette between his lips and lights it with his left hand.

"I think we should keep her." In a hundred years, he'd never seen a vampire with such acute hunting instincts. She sensed prey from more than two hundred meters away and chased him down with the grace of a jaguar or puma. When she finishes, Alexa turns round, sees her parents, returns to her human face and smiles as she slowly walks over.

"I can do anything. Thanks to you." Spike inhales. Alexa takes three twenty foot-long leaps and kisses him on the mouth. When she's done, Alexa steps back and exhales Spike's smoke. He's floored.

"You're bloody well welcome."

"Where am I? Is this Central Park?," she asks as she looks left, right and upward. "Is this where we live?"

"No love. Home's about ten miles south of here. Would you like to see it?" She smiles and jumps up and down.

"I'm free. I'm free! I'm me, but new."

"Would you loik to meet your big brother?"

"I have a brother!? I've never had a brother." Just an older sister at Rutgers.

Back home, Devlin's watching "All in the Family." He hears Spike and Dru enter. "I hear this is their final season. Wonder if there's gonna be a spin-off? They've already had two." He looks up. "Who's this?"

"Hi Devlin. I'm Alexa." He stands up and looks very cross.

"You didn't."

"She's a wonderful girl," Spike offers. "If you'd just give her a chance."

"You went out and had another child. Without telling me. Am I no longer enough for you? I don't make you proud, o you toss me aside and start over?" Alexa sidles up to Spike and puts her hands on his face.

"He serves you, too?," she asks, looking concerned. Spike pushes her away and backs up.

"No. God, no!" Devlin laughs, shakes his head and looks at Dru.

"You're all right with this?" She puts her hands to his chest and pushes Dev up against the wall.

"I'd loik you to be noice to your sister. Make mummy happy?" He looks into her almond-shaped eyes and knows he can't say no.

"Fine."

"Where do I get to sleep?," Alexa asks.

"On the floor, until you steal a mattress and bedding."

"What about Spike's bed?" Devlin scowls.

"This is my bed. Sit on it, I kill you. Put your shoes on it, I rip out your eyeballs, stuff them down your throat and drop you off in Queens."

"Have you ever done that? To a person?," she asks excitedly. That was not the response he expected. So he reaches under his bed and pulls out two scalps with long hair hanging from them.

"I want you to hold these." He puts one in each of her hands. "These are your sisters. What's left of them, anyway." She smiles and her eyes light up.

"I love you big brother." She hugs him. He doesn't hug back. "Nineteen Eighty Four? We just read that in English class."

"You can read. Fascinating," he replies coldly. Secretly, Dev's impressed by the literary reference.

"Mummy and daddy said you'd take me hunting."

"I'm not hungry."

"So what. Don't you like to kill?"

"I suppose. There's more to being a vampire than killing."

"I know." She smiles and gazes longingly at Spike, who's dancing with Dru to the song in her head.

"More than THAT," he sternly replies, turning her around. "We're more than our basest urges. We're everything a human being is, and more. At least the best of us are. The rest become dust. Now which are you Alexa? The best," he picks up the scalps again, "or the rest?" She hugs him again.

"You're the best big brother ever."

"And right now, I'm wondering how your skull will look when there's nothing covering it." She finds it exciting the way he keeps threatening her life.

"We're going out!"

"Be back by sun up," Spike tells them.

"Shoot. I wanted to show her the sunrise," Devlin half-jokes. The children leave.

"They're perfect together!," Dru gushes as Spike puts Patty Smith's "Dancing Barefoot" on the record player.

"She comes back intact, I owe you an infant," he promises.

Dev and Alexa walk through a large underground mall. "We live next to the mall?"

"We used to live in the mall before all the tenants moved in."

"Look at all these people. All these meals." She spots a cute teenage boy and flirts with him as he walks past. They both turn around to keep flirting. Dev flips her back around. The boy talks to his friends, and they all check her out.

"You're not wearing any shoes. You look like an escaped mental patient. That's why they're staring."

"Maybe. But they also think I'm sexy."

"Rule Number One: learn to exercise self-control, or you end up like your sisters. The mall is not a buffet."

She pouts. "Why not?"

"Because we live next to it, Alex!"

"Lex."

"Alex." She giggles. "We don't want people poking around. They find where you live, you're as good as dead. When I close my eyes and go to sleep, I don't want to worry about waking up on fire."

"You worry too much."

"Someone in this family has to. We're going to get you some shoes, get you some clothes, and I'll pay for it."

"Pay? Like them?," she asks with contempt.

"Rule Number Two: Always blend. You're more powerful when they don't know about your power."

"Can you write these down?," she jokes.

"Have you seen A Chorus Line'?"

"No, but I totally want to. Hey, now I can go see Broadway shows every night! And I can sneak in without paying! This so great. Like I've died and gone to Heaven."

"Then I'm Saint Peter, and this is your tryout. You have one hour to impress me before I annihilate you."

"You have control issues." He yanks her arm and takes her into a Foot Locker.

Elektra puts the television and the stereo she took from Bill on the stage and watches "Pulp Fiction" as she dances around to Liz Phair's "Fuck and Run." She hears something downstairs and pauses the music. The basement has sewer access. Hopefully, this is a vampire and not a demon, since demons are much messier to clean up. Two men emerge in the front hall and walk into the theater. Elektra grabs her switchblade and flips the blade out. The men see her and smile, then look confused.

"Hey," one of them says.

"Did I give you permission to talk to me?" He's taken aback by her bitchiness.

"Where's Bruce? Where's Clint?," the other guy asks.

"They're dead. I killed them." The two vampires look stunned. At first they think she's lying, then they realize she might be telling the truth, and get scared.

"Why did you do that?"

"I need to justify myself to cretins like you?" They turn around and try to run away. She cuts them off. "Did I say you could leave?"

"Who died and made you queen?"

"I did." She hits one man in the face with a straight right kick and the other with a right roundhouse kick. The first guy grabs Elektra. She throws him to the ground. The second guy races for the door. She grabs him from behind, slams his face through the wall, spins him round and drives her little knife through his throat and severs his spine. She turns around and points her knife at the other guy.

"Holy shit!"

"Now you're getting it." He climbs up on stage. "Come here. You hear me? Come here." She returns to her human face and bats her eyelashes while her mouth and jaw look like they're ready to bite his head off. Seeing what happened to his friend, and to all his other friends, he decides to comply, and slowly approaches. "Good boy." She pats the top of his head and then caresses his left cheek with her right hand. He smiles. "What's your name?"

"Kyle."

"Kyle, have you heard of a law firm named Wolfram & Hart?"

"Of course."

"Kyle, have you heard of a vampire named Spike?"

"I think I have. Isn't he doing that whole Dynamic Duo thing with Angel? Do you know what the deal is between those two? Cause I've heard rumors."

"Forget about Angel. Angel is nothing. Spike is everything. Spike is the only thing that matters to you."

"Okay. Whatever you say," he replies nervously.

"I want you to find Spike. I want you to tell him that I'm looking for him, and that if I don't find him soon, more people will die."

"Cool. What's you're name, again?"

"He knows my name." Kyle's confused. She grabs his hair with her left hand and uses the knife to carve an anarchy symbol in his forehead.

"Ow. Owww!!! Aiigghh!! What the hell are you doing?"

"Don't be such a baby. And stop squirming." She finishes, then licks the knife. "Not bad," she replies with a half-smile. He smiles back and tries to leave. She stops him. "Use that door."

"It goes outside."

"So."

"It's the daytime!"

"I know." She finds a blanket and tosses it over his head before literally kicking him out the door. Elektra flips the stereo back on and continues dancing and singing:

"And I can feel it in my bones, I'm gonna spend my whole life alone."


	37. Bad girl looking for a hero

Angel gets a Buffy-related scare. Buffy finds out more about Elektra. Devlin earns Alexa's everlasting gratitude on her first night as a vampire. And Dev pays Harmony a surprise visit before surprising his sister.

Angel is in his office, having a conference call with Lorne, Wes and Gunn. "The Industry is holding my feet to the coals on this one," Lorne reports. "And once the press gets the details, whoa Nellie. This is tabloid gold."

"The vampire angle's that sensational?," Angel asks.

"That's the least of it, boss. Hold on. You don't know?"

"Don't know what?" Gunn gulps, then proceeds to explain. In the lobby, a frazzled, bleeding vampire rushes to Harmony's desk.

"You got something on your face," she reports.

"I have to talk to Spike."

"Why?"

"A woman wants him."

"What kind of woman?"

"A woman like you." A blonde? Buffy!

"Did she cut you up?"

"After killing all my friends." That definitely sounded like Buffy. "So. You're a working girl. How's that working out? I'm still living off the land."

"You're flirting with a massive head wound."

"Oh. This. It's not massive. I'll go wash it off. Is Spike here?"

"Let me check while you do that."

"This could definitely be embarrassing for his family," Angel notes.

"As embarrassingly as being abandoned by their husband and father?," Wesley asks. He doesn't understand why they're making such a fuss over an unsympathetic guy when decent people die unavenged all the time.

"It's about reputation. Our reputation," Lorne explains. "For what the studios pay us, they expect us to keep their moguls safe from the creepy-crawlies."

"She stole the guy's car, and a lot of other stuff," Angel replies. "It shouldn't be too hard to track her down. Wait. I have another call. Harmony, this better be important."

"A certain vampire-slaying girl sent a beat-up vampire over here with a message for Spike."

"You mean Debbie?"

"I hadn't thought of them. But I don't think so. She's not blonde."

"One second." He returns to the conference call. "Guys, I have to go. Something came up." He rushes out to see Harmony.

"Where is she?" Kyle emerges from the restroom, the blood gone but the symbol still scratched into his forehead.

"Where is he?," Kyle asks.

"Who are you?"

"Angel, this is the messenger," Harmony reports.

"My name's Kyle. Hey, you're Angel."

"Can you tell me where she is?"

"She doesn't want to talk to you. She told me Angel doesn't matter.' Only Spike matters to her." Angel's speechless.

"Maybe Buffy's still mad at you for taking this job," Harmony proposes.

"Buffy the Vampire Layer? I mean, Slayer." Kyle starts laughing. "What the hell gave you that idea? I said she was like you. And me. And him."

"Ohhh. You meant she was a vampire," Harmony realizes.

"How did you confuse Buffy with a vampire?," a peeved Angel wants to know. Harmony had led him to think Buffy had forsaken him and chosen Spike.

"What kind of vampire kills other vampires?," Harmony asks in her defense. "Except for you, Angel."

"Did she carve that on your forehead?," Angel asks.

"After dusting five of my friends. The girl's brutal." Kyle smiles. "And totally hot. She didn't need to kill us. We would've worked for her. We would have done anything for her. But I guess the only vampire she wants is Spike. Oh and, uh, I think she's going to massacre people until she finds him. So you should hurry and tell him, since you guys are, like, anti-massacre, right?"

"Why would a vampire be that obsessed with Spike?," Harmony asks. "Angel?"

"So," Kyle says with a smile to Harmony, now that they're alone again. "You seeing anyone?" Harmony rolls her eyes.

Spike's helping train the security guards. They beat on him, and he beats on them. Six men surround him, and one-by-one he puts them all on their backs. "That was bloody pathetic. If this were real, you'd all be dead by now." Angel runs in. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm teaching?" The men can't believe how insolent he acts to the boss. The expect Angel to deck Spike.

"Someone's here to see you."

"Who?"

"I'll explain on the way." He pulls Spike out of the room.

"Is it Buffy?"

"No. Unlike her, this girl's obsessed with you. And she's a vampire." When they get back to the lobby, Spike takes one look at Kyle's forehead and knows who it is. He waits about five seconds before telling everybody else.

"Elektra."

"She said you'd know."

"Tall girl? Really pretty?"

"And psychotic."

"Yeah, that sounds like her," Spike replies, trying to conceal a smile.

"She wants to see you."

"I bet she does."

"She's in an abandoned theater on - " Spike snaps Kyle's neck.

"Well that was incredibly stupid," Angel points out.

"I did you a favor."

"You did HER a favor."

"If you knew her location, you'd send a commando team."

"Along with myself."

"They'd die, you'd get hurt, she'd escape."

"I don't need you looking out for me. Unless you're looking out for her. Is she another one of yours?"

"I drained her. She fed off Dru."

"And who does she take after?"

"She's her own girl. And Leks is very dangerous when cornered. Let me handle this. Alone."

"Like you handled Dana?"

"Fine," Spike says as he walks to the elevator. "Call out the bloody cavalry. Hunt the girl down. Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Spike, wait a minute. Does this, Elektra vampire like to kill men while they're, you know - ?"

"Excited?" He chuckles. "She said it makes the blood come faster. Why?"

"A guy got killed last night. Police found him with a cocktail umbrella inside his, - "

"How old?"

"Forty five."

"Rich?"

"Well off."

"That's her all right. Stay clear."

"It would help if I knew what I was trying to stay away from." Spike shakes his head.

"You'll have to learn the hard way." He knows Angel will hunt her down. "About yeah high. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Very pretty. Very innocent-looking. Bloody vicious. The girl loves her work."

"How old?"

"Seventeen. A little long in the tooth for your tastes."

"What are we killing tonight?," Deb asks Dev when she gets home from school."

"Nothing. You can try to kill me if you want, just to stay fresh."

"Naw. You know what that'll lead to."

"Why do you think I suggested it? I'm sorry. I don't mean to belittle your whole, situation."

"It's been less than three days. Can you show a little patience?"

"Sure. By the way, I'm going into Los Angeles tonight to see my sister."

"Your what?"

"She used to run with Spike and Dru and me. I got a tip from W and H about a weird killing last night that fits her M.O. exactly. She's probably got some unresolved business with Spike. But I figure when she's done with him, she'll come for me. And you."

"So we kill her. If Angel hasn't already."

"He won't. She's tricky. Which is why I want to keep her away from you."

"You afraid she'll tell me stuff about your past?"

"No, I'm afraid she'll kill you." Debbie laughs. "She's like me, Deb. She doesn't play by the rules."

"She's packing heat?"

"Maybe. I'd rather not find out. See, I figure if I cut her off in LA, let her know she's not just going to be facing us, but also all our friends, that might scare her away."

"What sort of relationship did you two have?"

"You mean have I slept with her? Deb, she's my sister!"

"And Drusilla, who you lost your virginity to, is your grandmother."

"Lateral relations are very different than hierarchical. I didn't think of Dru as a grandmother. I do think of Alexa as a sister."

"A sister you're going to kill?"

Harmony opens her front door, and can hear someone inside. She slowly approaches the noise, and sees the back of man who's looking through her cd collection. She goes bumpy, picks up a flower pot, and raises it. The man turns around. She drops the pot. He catches it in mid-air. "Devlin!?" She slaps his face.

"That's the thanks I get for saving your worthless vase?"

"You broke into my home? Why!?"

"I should be asking the questions. Wilson Phillips? What do you have to say in defense of yourself? And these unicorns! I look at them, and all I see is a horse with a wooden stake on its nose. Terrifying!" Harmony laughs.

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see your pretty face." Harmony smiles. "And find out how things are going in San Diego. I suppose I could have called to get that information, but then there's the problem of not seeing your pretty face."

"I made a few friends last night."

"Make some more tonight."

"Do I have to sleep with any of them? You know, to, umm, get into their group?"

"Not unless you want to. Of course, Alex might mind." Harmony looks upset. "Something happen between you two? Lemme guess: he couldn't handle the vampire thing. I've been there myself so many times."

"You date humans? Non-Slayer humans?"

"All the time. In general, I prefer them to vampires. Present company excluded. I'm sure you'll find someone else. Talk to Sidney. There must be tons of good-looking guys who wanna get with you. Hell, when I was in high school, I would've given my left nut to be with you."

"Thanks. That's sweet. And gross."

"It's not meant to be taken literally."

"Of course. But, it's still nice." Harmony's not used to praise. "You know what else is nice? Blowing away Slayers. Can you tell me about that?"

"Sure." He sits down on her couch. She sits to his right. "Now I think you know how arrogant Buffy can be. Imagine twelve Buffys."

"Oh yeah." A dozen Buffys getting kneecapped. That was some fantasy.

In one of the two large training rooms in Rome (the other one is bare to facilitate single combat) four Slayers punch and kick heavy bags while other Slayers hold the bags and provide encouragement. Buffy walks around, critiquing their form while Giles works with another girl, who punches and kicks his padded hands. Gretchen and Dawn walk in. Rupert turns to his right and nearly get clocked by the Slayer. "Gretchen! Is it lunch time already?"

"I, I mean we, found some information on that Lex' girl who's been causing trouble in the states."

"Dawn, shouldn't you be in school?," Buffy asks.

"It's my free period."

"Dawn should tell the first part," Gretchen suggests.

"Both times the Slayers said the victims had their pants down. So I checked this out, and found out there's some vampire called the Priapic Killer,' because, well, you know. She's struck in Europe and Japan, but mostly in the U.S. Her work' was first spotted in the New York area in the early eighties."

"More than one vampire could employ the same method," Giles points out.

"Can I get graphic?," Gretchen asks.

"If my sister can," Buffy replies with dismay. She finds the subject too pornographic for her kid sister to be investigating.

"In most of these sorts of cases, the vampire bites during or after sexual activity. That's the classic Succubus' behavior. Tease' vampires, on the other hand, lure men but don't waste time working them up."

"There are names for these things?," Buffy asks, mildly nauseous.

"Five types of female killers, three types of male killers," Gretchen explains. "But that's not relevant. What is relevant is that this vampire is willing to repeatedly risk Slayer ambush in order to pursue her method."

"So she's dedicated," Buffy quips.

"And she claims to have family," Giles adds.

"That's where I came in," Gretchen begins. "I used Dawn's dating to estimate her age and cross-referenced the name. It turns out an Alexa Adler,' a seventeen year-old girl from New Jersey, disappeared in September 1979. Her picture matches the description the Slayers have provided, and she was last seen in New York with two friends who ended up dying from severe neck trauma. Police said a tall, brown-haired woman in black was spotted leaving the scene of the crime."

"Alexa, Lex. It's possible," Buffy offers. "But how does this help us?"

"Maybe I'm going out on a limb, but the woman in black sounds a little like Drusilla, whom we know to have been in the area around that period."

"Along with dozens upon dozens of other vampires," Giles notes.

"True. But, if I'm right, her brother,' the vampire she vows to join forces with, could be Spike." Giles glares at Gretchen for trying to reveal the secret to Buffy. He doesn't know that she's doesn't know he's alive. "Alexa appears to be heading west, and she may be unaware of recent events over the past few years."

"If so, she's in for a surprise," Buffy jokes. Giles looks nervous.

"However, after discovering he's dead, our Alexa might ally herself with her sire. And if Alexa can hold her own with two Slayers, imagine how dangerous she'd be with a proven Slayer killer by her side."

"Assuming Drusilla is her sire," Giles adds. "It's an intriguing hypothesis, which we can discuss further over lunch." He walks off with Gretchen, leaving Buffy with Dawn.

"You buy this?," Buffy asks.

"I wish I didn't. But you know how these coincidences keep happening to us. Like with Principal Wood. Oh, and I found something on Devlin. You know, the vampire who's boinking that Rogue Slayer?" Buffy grinds her teeth. "You're right. Maybe I should discuss this with Giles. Anyway, just so you know, a Devlin killed three Watchers in Budapest in 1992 by luring them into a trap. I guess that's his thing. Which could be good news, since it means he's only good on defense. So, maybe we just leave him alone and let Angel go after him. You know how good he is with handling Rogue Slayers. Not literally, of course."

"You shouldn't make this personal," Giles tells Gretchen.

"How am I doing that?"

"We both know why you are so keenly interested in teenagers who disappeared in New York City during the late 1970s."

"This has nothing to do with my brother. The situation is in no way analogous. First off, none of his friends were even attacked. Second, Herman lived in Manhattan. These girls were from out-of-town."

"I can't imagine what you've been through."

"And I don't want you to. Rupert, I'm not looking for Herman's killer."

"What about Herman?" There's a very long pause. "I'm sorry I brought that up."

"Only one in four vampires makes it to their twenty fifth year. Chances are, if he did become a vampire, he died a long time ago. And Manhattan's especially tough for vampires. No alleys." She tries to laugh, and Giles hugs and comforts her.

"I hate these clothes," Alexa says to Devlin. She's wearing blue jeans, a flower-print blouse and a red cardigan. "Let's hit the Village."

"Then we'll need to take the subway."

"Why can't we walk?"

"It's three miles."

"So? I'm bursting with energy. I can probably jump over these cars. Hey, I can probably run faster than them!" Devlin grabs her left arm.

"You don't want to stand out."

"Yes I do!" He grabs both her wrists and squeezes. "Ow!" He stands there on the street, staring into her eyes.

"Actions have consequences. Every action creates a reaction."

"Oh God. It's like I'm in school again."

"Vampires kill, people start to take precautions and defend themselves. The more we kill, the more aware they become of us, the better they get at hunting us. Anonymity is our best defense. Imagine if every fifth person walking by us knew we were vampires. We couldn't protect themselves against them all. Look around. Everyone's a potential victim. Everyone's also a potential hunter."

"Even that old lady over there?," she jokes. He lets go of her wrists.

"You get my point."

"Be afraid, be very afraid?"

"No! Be anonymous, be safe. Only show your true face to those you plan to hurt."

"I guess you're right. I can't kill everyone I see. But it would be fun to try." Devlin grabs her right wrist and drags her down into the subway. He puts in their tokens and arrives at the platform just as a train is leaving. "You pay?"

"Petty crime is beneath us, Alexa. You don't want to be that kind of vampire."

"What kind?"

"The loser. The urchin. The skid row bloodsucker. You have a family reputation to uphold."

"Who else is there? Besides mummy and yummy daddy and you?"

"Spike is descended from Drusilla, who is descended from Angelus, who is descended from Darla, who is descended from an ancient Master vampire named Heinrich, whose also went by the Roman moniker Aurelius."

"You sure his last name isn't Bates?," Alexa asks with a snicker.

"Grow up. You're an immortal now. Anyway, the Master is the patriarch of an expansive clan of which we are the most prestigious branch. Others may tell you different, but they are full of shit. Spike is the most accomplished vampire in the world today. No other vampire can match his record of achievement. It all started when . . . " Alexa zones out and stares at a man who just entered the platform. He's young, fit, and wearing a tank top that reveals his arm veins. She licks her lips and walks towards him as Devlin follows and continues to drone on. "What people forget is that the Slayer wasn't the only deadly enemy Spike had to worry about during the Boxer Rebellion. While they performed poorly against Western armies, the Society of Righteous Fists slayed scores of foreign vampires . . . "

"Hey," she says.

"Hello," the man casually replies.

"You look delicious."

"Thank you," he nervously says while inching away from the girl.

"Angelus had never killed a Slayer. Spike's achievement so humiliated Darla that she left him. You may ask why Darla didn't stay with Spike. Apparently, she was never physically attracted to him. And they say Drusilla's out of her mind!"

"Shut up. You're freaking people out," she cautions.

"Fine. I'll just give you the book I've been writing when we get home." Alexa saunters in front of the man she's attracted to, waits a few seconds, spins round and pushes him eight feet back into the wall. She kisses him on the lips. When the shocked man tries to push her away, she goes bumpy, overpowers him and bites the left side of her neck.

"What the fuck are you doing!?," Devlin screams. "Speaking of freaking people out." He rushes over and puts his hand on top of the screaming man's mouth to muffle him. The man behind the turnstile gets on the radio. "Oh no." Alexa finishes her meal, licks her lips, returns to her human face and smiles. "That was great." She leans over the tracks and looks for the next train. Devlin grabs her.

"Are you crazy? We have to get out of here."

"That's what the train's for."

"We have to get out of the subway system." Devlin reaches his right fist through the glass and shatters the kiosk window before knocking the man out with two left hooks while he's in the middle of giving a description of the perps. "Let's go!" He jumps over the turnstile, and Alexa follows. But when they get to the stairs, they sees four cops coming down. "Shit." He turns and leaps the other way, returning to the platform and dragging Alexa with them.

"What are you so afraid of? We can take them."

"No we can't," he answers while continuing to run and trying to guess which of the four tracks to run down.

"Why not?" Just then, an officer pulls out a gun. Dev shields Alexa, takes two bullets in the chest and gets right back up. "See," Alexa tells him. "There's nothing to be afraid of." She goes bumpy and rushes the four officers. One of them pulls out a tranq gun and hits her.

"Fuck!" Devlin rips out a wooden bench that was bolted to the floor and uses it as a shield while running over to Lex.

"What's happening?," she asks as she falls down and starts to feel very sleepy. The two of them lie behind the bench. Two officers move to get behind them, one on either side.

"Why didn't I take him hostage? Why didn't I take him fucking hostage!?," Devlin bemoans, referring to the guy in the kiosk. He swings the bench to his left, knocking one cop onto the tracks, but he avoids the third rail. He then spins the other way and nails another cop with the bench, knocking him into the back wall. He holds the bench in front of him, blocking two darts. As they reload, he drops the bench, picks up the guy he just whacked into the wall, takes his pistol and points it at the two officers while holding their colleague in front of him. "We're all reasonable men. Put your weapons down, let us leave, everybody lives." The man on the tracks climbs back onto the platform behind Dev and to his left. He points his gun at the back of Devlin's head. Dev points his gun backwards, shoots at the cop, and forces him to fall back onto the tracks to avoid getting shot. "How much longer until the next train comes and kills your buddy?," Devlin asks. He walks forward until he's standing over top of Alexa. His right hand's around the cop's throat, his left hand points the gun back at the man on the tracks, and he goes bumpy.

"Is killing us worth losing him?," Devlin asks the two officers in front of him. The man on the tracks rushes forward and climbs out next to the other men in blue. "That's good. Everyone where I can see them. Now let's all put our guns down." Devlin tosses his over. The two cops with the tranq guns place those down. Dev hears the tracks rumble. "It's been nice working with you." He throws the hostage at the three officers, picks up Alexa and leaps across the first set of tracks towards a train zooming by on the inner tracks. The cops pick up their weapons and fire two more darts in vain. Dev crashes head-first through the window of the moving train. Dozens of people scream. Devlin calmy takes his seat, pulls out a tiny vile from the inside sleeve of his black jeans jacket, sticks Alexa in the heart with a small needle and presses down. Her eyes burst open. She looks around, hyper and disoriented. The people assume it's some sort of overdose. Once Alexa sees Dev's face, she smiles.

"Are we safe from the bad men?"

"Almost." He props her up next to him and puts his left arm around her shoulders, carefully scanning the train for any possible danger. At the next stop, he gets out with the crowd and helps Alexa to her feet. "Cover you face. Cover your face," he whispers. But anonymity is not an option. Too many people are pointing at them. "Follow me." He climbs on top of the train, leaps over to the tracks going the other way and races south. When a train approaches them from behind, they hop on the tracks to their left and feel the wind buffet them. Alexa raises her arms and screams with joy.

"What an adventure! And I thought you were boring and lame!" He slaps her face with the back of his right hand.

"You nearly got me killed."

"You saved me!" She hugs her hero.

"I had a feeling I'd find you hear," Devlin says when he spots Elektra in a club during a Lacuna Foil show. She's genuinely surprised.

"Did Spike send you? I specifically asked for him and him only."

"You think we work together?"

"You're both on the same side," she responds with derision. "Protecting these worthless humans. Looks at all these losers, drooling over that singer like the dateless college boys who live with their parents that they really are. Is the world really gonna miss a few of them?"

"That's not the point. Not for me, at least."

"Then what is?"

"Hunting something that can fight back."

"You know what also fights back? Slayers."

"You learned this from personal experience?"

"They're everywhere, Dev. And always in pairs. I can't kill two on my own. I need you, brother."

"What about mom?," Devlin asks before turning his back on Elektra.

"She says you're the One!," Elektra replies, wrapping her arms around Dev from behind.

"What else does she say about me?"

"Mum's delighted by what you did to the Dirty Dozen. Though she wishes you had killed them all. That would have put her in Heaven." He turns around.

"So now, after all this time, she's finally impressed with me. It's a little late."

"A boy and his Slayer. Don't you find that a little trite?"

"I find it absolutely thrilling."

"Then why aren't you with her right now?"

"Bring her here? Within range of you?"

"Is she that fragile? They don't make Slayers like they used to. They just make 'em by the gross. You don't know what it's like out there. I don't know how much longer I can last. Mummy's practically in hiding. And when we're gone, you'll be alone. You and your precious Slayer. Against hundreds and hundreds of Slayer drones. You keep waiting, you keep standing on the sidelines, and it's you're funeral too."

Devlin puts his right hand around her throat and jabs the stake in his left hand against her sternum. Elektra giggles. "You think I won't?" She slowly shakes her head. He lets go and puts the stake away.

"At least that Slayer hasn't taken away your honor. Just your dignity."

"You so much as scratch her, and I will kill you. Slowly. He takes out his stake and makes a circle around his head. She smiles ear-to-ear.

"Scalping! There's the brother I remember. Speaking of fond memories, have you seen daddy?"

"No. I thought he'd be here for sure. After what you did last night."

"It's in the papers!"

"Not yet. But I'm plugged in."

"I think Spike wants me to find him. Remember those games we used to play?"

"He's changed, Leks. It's disheartening. He's a shell of what he once was."

"Disheartening. Why not just say It Sucks? Same old show-offy Devlin."

"And do keep an eye out for Angel."

"I would if I knew what he looked like."

"He'll be the one trying to kill you. The guy seems to think he's King Of All Demons in this city. Everyone has to pay him obeisance." Elektra laughs.

"There you go again. Why not just say homage?" She runs her right hand through his hair. "I missed you."

"Not until you needed me to get you out of Slayer-related jams." She slaps him lightly with her left hand.

"That's not a nice thing to say."

"You wanna bitch? Bitch to mom. I was there for her, she didn't want me, so it's her own damn fault that I found someone new. Someone who loves me. And she wonders why all her men end up with Slayers."

"Playtime is over, brother. You keep this up, and six months from now you'll be fighting Buffy all on your own."

"Good. Then maybe I'll join them and go good once and for all. Me and Deb and Spike and Buffy and Angel running round the world, killing monsters. Wouldn't that be fun." Elektra snarls, leaps off the balcony onto the stage, then leaps over security and into the pit, where the fans hold her up and pass her along. She looks up at the ceiling, one of the more morose crowd surfers.

"What is wrong with the men in my family?"


	38. A very painful threesome

Elektra and Devlin battle Angel while Jeta gets sweet revenge on her sire.

Elektra is a tricky girl, well versed in the arts of elusiveness. She'll only get caught if she stops to feed. Make that WHEN she stops to feed. She's exceedingly ravenous. Devlin finds the body of a teenage runaway on the ground in downtown Hollywood. He finds another dead runaway a block later. Two blocks on, he discovers Elektra in an alley, feeding on a boy she's chased down. "I wish I could chase you some more," she tells the sweating, panting, terrified boy as she holds him against the wall. "Oh well." She bites the right side of his neck. Devlin catches up to her and makes a call on his cell phone while standing ten feet behind his sister.

"Yes, I need an ambulance. Vine and Spring. There's a young man on the ground. He's lost a lot of blood. Please hurry." Devlin hangs up.

"Brother?," Elektra asks, looking over her shoulder. Dev knocks her down with a right hook to the face. He picks up the teenager and runs to the end of the alley, where he drops the boy. Then he grabs Leks as she tries to race by and tosses her back into the alley. Dev slowly walks towards her as she stands up. "There were two more I wanted to bite," she whines.

"Do you want to die?"

"I want you to remember your loyalties." Dev goes bumpy. "That's right."

"I'm trying to protect you."

"Bullshit. You're protecting these people. It's disgusting. Caring about strangers. Whoever heard of such a thing?"

"When is a vampire most vulnerable?"

"I'm a little too old for lessons."

"When he or she is feeding."

"I've taken on four Slayers. I know how to protect myself."

"They're rookies."

"And I'm not," Angel says as he grabs Devlin from behind and tosses him into the wall to Angel's left.

"Hands off my brother!" Elektra swings her purse upwards and nails Angel in the chin, knocking him down. The purse felt extraordinarily heavy. As he gets up, she clocks him in the left side of his head. She spins the purse in a figure eight. Angel keeps his distance, ducks left and right, and finally grabs the straps. Leks kicks him in the stomach and tosses the purse behind her.

"So you two are working together. Can't say I'm surprised."

"Oh, look. Nick Lachey! Wait a second. Eraser head. Cave man brow. You're Angel!" He knocks her down with a right hook. She quickly gets up and backs away. "I don't see what mummy saw in you. To each her own, I suppose." She blocks a left jab, ducks a right hook, but gets hit in the face with a left roundhouse kick.

"What's wrong?," Angel asks. "Not the vampire you wanted to see?" He lands a left uppercut. Elektra looks her right at Devlin. He just leans against the wall, arms folded, watching passively.

"Come on," she pleads before getting knocked down with a right cross. Devlin shows no emotion.

Claire meets Spike outside her darkroom at school. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. "I'll be done in a couple minutes." She smiles mischievously. "We can do it in there if you want."

"Love to, love, but I have business to take care of tonight."

"More bad guys to slay?"

"A bad girl. And she's, umm, well - "

"Another possibly jealous ex-girlfriend?"

"Something like that. So you should stay in tonight. That's what I came here to tell you."

"How many homicidal exes do you have?" He thinks this over. She looks worried and steps back. "Oh."

"Just one more, really. And she's wouldn't be jealous."

"You mean Dru? So who's this woman?"

"Someone I haven't seen in a long time. Don't worry yourself about it. It's just for tonight. I'd hate to put you in any danger. I couldn't live with myself."

"Like I said, I'm just about done here." She nervously walks back into the dark room. Spike stands in the hall. He hears someone approaching, and spots her sixty feet to his right. It's Edie, Claire's friend who wanted to be more than that for her. Edie sees Spike, looks away to conceal her anger, and continues on.

Ivan lies on his back, smiling. To his right is Jeta. To his left is Jobyna. "Are you satisfied, master?," Jeta asks.

"Very." She rolls on top of him, rubs his chest with her left hand, and moves her right hand up Jobyna's right thigh. She glances in direction of the nervous vampire.

"Something wrong?," she asks Jobyna, sliding her hand under Jobyna's night gown, onto her stomach. Jobyna stands up and runs away. Ivan tries to get up, but Jeta, who's straddling him, holds her sire down. "Let me try first." She goes after Jobyna, while Ivan sits up and drinks some vodka. Jeta catches up with the vampire in the main hall. "Stop," she pleads when Jobyna opens the door. She turns around.

"You're a witch."

"I have many talents."

"You've bewitched him."

"I give him what he wants."

"No. You get what you want."

She runs her right hand through Jobyna's hair, who cringes and backs away. "Not all the time."

"You're disgusting."

"To the humans, we're all disgusting." Jeta finds it quite ridiculous that Jobyna thinks sucking the blood out of a small child to be decent behavior while pleasuring a woman is somehow scandalous and beyond the pale.

"You're going to kill me, if I don't go along. Just like the others."

"I don't miss the others. I'll miss you, Jobyna."

"You only care about yourself, Yetta. Soon, he'll see that."

"See what?," Ivan asks, entering the room. Jeta looks at him and grins.

"Jobyna won't live with me. She says you have to choose." Jobyna looks terrified.

"No I didn't. I never said that, master." Jeta reaches out her right hand and touches Jobyna's left hand. She moves away.

"See, master. She can't stand me." Ivan ponders this dilemma. Jobyna falls to her knees in front of him.

"I have always devoted myself to you, master. Never to myself. I am your loyal servant." Ivan grabs a scythe that was hanging on the wall. He motions for Jeta to also get on her knees. Then he tells them to lie on the floor face-down. Both women faithfully follow orders, confident they'll survive. Ivan beheads Jobyna. Jeta stands up, looking more relieved and grateful than she truly feels.

"We shall take the world by storm," she exults. "Drink this continent dry." He holds her tight. She gasps in anticipation.

"You are the one I've been waiting for, my Dark Angel."

"Girl's gotta make it on her own," Elektra jokes about Devlin's lack of support. Angel kicks her in the chest and punches her in the face. She ducks a right hook and hits his head with a right roundhouse kick, followed by a cartwheel kick. She blocks Angel's next punch and puts him down with a back flip kick. Devlin claps.

"Bravo, sis. Would you like this?" He holds out a wooden stake.

"Nah." She steps to her left to avoid a right cross, slides to her right to elude a left jab, and hits Angel in the chest with a left hook kick, though he blocks her follow-up right roundhouse kick. "I want daddy to see me kill him. I think he'd really like that." She hits Angel in the face with a flying left kick, causing him to back up.

"Maybe he'd even give you another roll in the hay. Is that what this is about?"

"If I wanted that, why wouldn't I just get him drunk?" Angel tries a right hook while Elektra looks at Devlin, but she leaps back out of the way. "It's always worked in the past." Angel recognizes her quickness, and decides to force Elektra to go on the offensive.

"I think Eraser Head is offended by your distraction," Dev tells sis. "It's almost as if you don't take him seriously."

"There is only one of him." Angel leaps in the air and knocks her down with a flying right kick to the chest she wasn't expecting. "Well isn't that special. The big lug can move." She tries a right kick to his chest. He grabs her foot. She does a back flip to break free. Since Angel has his arms down, she steps forward and tries a left jab. He ducks, slides behind her, grabs her back, and tosses Elektra into the wall, eight feet to the left of Dev, who puffs on his cigarette and acts like a spectator.

"Go back to your human face. Let him imagine he's fighting a Slayer. We know Angel lacks the skills to kill them." Angel decides to teach this boy a lesson once he's done with Elektra. Buoyed by Devlin's pep talk, and the contempt he shows for Angel's abilities, Elektra goes on the attack. Angel blocks a left kick and a right punch, but she lands a left cross to his face. Angel responds with a left hook that staggers her. He follows this up with a right cross and a left kick to her stomach. Elektra lands two punches to his stomach, but he puts her down with a right uppercut. "You're not looking good, sis." Angel glances to his right at Dev, worried about a surprise attack. Elektra gets up and throws a straight right kick that Angel backs away from. She comes in and lands a left uppercut. But he responds with a left jab, a left hook, a right hook and a left cross, knocking her down yet again. Dev attacks when Angel's not looking. Angel faces right, blocks a right hook and a left cross, and knocks Devlin down with two right jabs, a left uppercut and a straight right kick. Elektra comes at Angel with a flying left roundhouse kick. He grabs her in midair and throws her face-first to the ground. Then he picks her up with his left hand and shoots a stake out from under his right sleeve.

"Traitor," she says, either to Angel, Devlin or both of them. But when Angel tries to jab his arm forward, Devlin grabs it and hurls Angel fifteen feet back.

"Hands off my sister," he says, tossing his cigarette to the ground. She smiles ear-to-ear. Then she looks serious again.

"Took you long enough."

"Finally showing your true colors," Angel says as he stands up. "I think Debbie will understand."

"You're right, Angel. She won't shed any tears over you." Angel laughs and attacks them both.

After convincing Ivan to be monogamous, Jeta went along with Ivan on a raid of a nearby village. They torched one house, waited for the occupants to run out and devoured the family while killing any other villagers who stepped out of their homes to see what the commotion was. He agreed that spreading this sort of terror among the population was more thrilling than feasting on doomed concentration camp inmates. However, Ivan was less enthusiastic about attacking German soldiers. To him that seemed needlessly dangerous. Which it was. But that argument was for another time. Right now, the two vampires are back home and fully satiated after their feast. But there is more. Jeta had promised yet another surprise. Ivan waits in his bedroom for a few minutes, and just when he is beginning to become impatient, she walks in, wearing a long black skirt with nothing on top, her bare chest smeared in the blood of their victims. Ivan can't believe his eyes. He takes her in his arms, starts licking the blood up, throws her on his bed and makes mad, vigorous love. She moans, loudly but metronomically, half-heartedly playing a role. All the time, she stares up at the ceiling, as if trying to leave her body while he's inside it, screaming her name in unilateral ecstasy.

Once Ivan is sound-asleep, Jeta leaves the room to quietly get dressed. She smells of the vodka she had poured on her body both to slake Ivan's thirst and to dissolve the blood. In her mind, Jeta was the witch in the forest, and her methods of pleasing Ivan were the equivalent of feeding the children candy to fatten them up for the slaughter. She lights a kerosene lamp and carries it into the bedroom. Jeta picks up a vodka bottle and empties its contents onto Ivan. He giggles and pants. He's having some dream where Jeta's licking liquids off his body, so her action only further arouses him. She pauses for a moment to appreciate the delicious irony, lights a twig with the flame in the lamp, and places it on Ivan's chest, setting him on fire. Ivan wakes up screaming. She breaks the lamp on the floor, spreading the flames to his straw mattress, which now becomes his pyre. Jeta steps back and watches. The only light in the room is Ivan himself, who stands up and runs around in terror. When he first raped her, she vowed he would die screaming. It had taken her a little more than a fortnight to make good on that promise.

Jeta walks away as the old barn slowly goes up in flames. She doesn't look back. She had avenged her sire by killing all his minions before disposing of him. With her father taken care of, it was now time to get to work on the Fatherland.

"Apologies to Kool Keith, but I think you're due for a critical beatdown," Dev says to Angel, who blocks Dev's punch, blocks Elektra's kick, throws her into the wall to his right, grabs Dev's arm and throws him into the wall to his left.

"You were saying?" The two of them get up.

"He doesn't get the reference," Dev notes with a sigh.

"To the Ultramagnetic MCs? I don't think Spike would get that reference," Elektra replies. Angel shoots out his two stakes as his opponents attack simultaneously. Elektra leaps backwards and upwards, grabs Angel's right arm with her feet while bracing her back against the wall, and flings him towards Devlin, who ducks under the stakes and sweeps out Angel's legs. Angel puts the stakes' points against the ground and pushes them back up his sleeve. Dev backs away from Angel and towards his sister.

"Stakes that shoot out when you're excited. How ridiculously phallic," Leks opines.

"And two of them," Devlin adds. "That's a lot of compensating." Angel leaps forward and slams them both into the wall. He hits Dev with two left punches while he's down, picks Elektra up and tosses her twenty feet into the other wall. Devlin leaps ten feet in the air. Angel leaps after him, grabs Dev and pulls him to the ground. The stake under his right sleeve shoots out and he goes for the kill. Dev quickly reaches into his coat pocket, takes his own stake in his right hand and shoot its for Angel's heart when he's doing to same thing to Devlin. They both stop when the stakes are touching their sternums. "You should have known I was a quick draw," Dev says to Angel as they stand on the verge of mutually assured destruction. Elektra, who's standing to Angel's right, winds up for a big right kick to his face. But Angel leaps back out of the way before she can hit him, and Leks fall on her butt during the follow through.

"I saved your life," Elektra proudly states as they stand up.

"No you didn't."

"He had a stake to your heart."

"But I had a - " Angel cuts the rehash short with a left cross to Dev's face and a right roundhouse punch to Elektra's. They both back away, Leks to Angel's front and Dev to his right. Elektra tries a leaping right kick, which Angel blocks. But once he puts up his hands to do that, Dev attacks, kicking the side of his head with a leaping right hook kick, sending Angel into the wall. Elektra adds a straight left kick to his chin. But Angel quickly recovers and ducks Dev's right cross, which slams into the wall. As Dev cries out in pain, Angel hits Elektra in the face with a left hook and steps away from the wall, facing them both head-on. He parries their first set of attacks and knocks them both back with punches. Dev throws a right hook that Angel easily blocks. But as he throws the punch, the clever vampire puts his left hand into his trench coat and pulls out a twelve inch-long lead pipe with a three inch-long elbow at the end. He swings and nails Angel in the right temple, following this up with two quick, precise blows to the exact same spot. Taken completely by surprise, Angel goes down. Elektra backs up and starts hopping up-and-down excitedly as Dru used to. Dev switches the pipe to his right hand and switches sides, whacking Angel in his left knee. His next blow is for Angel's face, but he puts up his left hand, blocking the blow with his left wrist, causing further pain. Devlin quickly takes advantage with two blows to the left side of Angel's skull. But Angel blocks a third blow, grabbing the pipe with his right hand and ripping it away from Devlin, who quickly retreats. He turns his back to Angel, picks up Elektra's purse, hands it to her, takes her left hand in his right and leads her away.

"But it was just getting fun," she pouts.

"We proved out point."

"No we didn't." She reaches into her purse, pulls out a two inch-wide throwing star, and flips it behind her with her right hand just after Angel climbs to his feet. He doesn't have time to react, and the star lodges itself deep into his right kneecap. "No we've proved our point." Dev turns around to look. Angel hurls the pipe and hits him in the forehead. He smarts, rubs the impact point with his left hand, then blows Angel a kiss. Hand-in-hand, the siblings skip out of the alley, singing the Pixies' "Wave of Mutilation." Angel, who is hobbled and in incredible pain, has no choice but to take out his cell phone and make a call.

"Wesley, I need a ride. I'll explain when you get here. Just," Angel looks around and feels regretfully helpless, "Hurry."

Elektra and Devlin run for a few blocks before he decides they should head underground to avoid the commando gangs Angel has at his beck and call. She hugs him when they're safely in the sewers. "We did it. We did it!"

"Two on one. It would have been a disgrace if we lost," he coldly replies.

"Are you nuts?," she remarks, playfully shoving him. "If we can take Angel, we can take just about anyone." She looks excited. "We could take Buffy!"

"Of course. She's never had to fight two top-caliber vampires at once. It's her lone tactical blind spot."

"Then we catch the next plane to Rome and put the homewrecker in her place. Fuck her Slayer minions. Let's go for the Queen Bitch."

"Someday. But not now." Elektra looks completely exasperated. They've just had a smashing success, but he betrays no pleasure.

"Why not? You scared of her? You afraid of a Slayer even Spike couldn't take?"

"It's my belief he could have. Especially if I had been on his side."

"Now you can be on my side."

"I made an oath to protect you. I kept that oath tonight. But I can't keep pulling you out of every briar patch you get stuck in. Eventually, ya gotta learn to stay away from briar patches."

"What the fuck's a briar patch? You ever seen one, Dev?"

"It's goddam metaphor."

"No, it's an excuse. A lame excuse to hide your real reason: I believe she goes by the name Deborah."

"It's Debbie. And yes, right now I value her companionship more than yours. I think I'll always value her companionship more than yours. This was what happens in families. Siblings grow up, get hitched, and grow apart."

"You are such a fucking copy cat."

"Don't you ever get tired of all the seducing and killing?"

"No. Every kill's special. There's nothing better than holding life in the palm of your hand. Or maybe you've forgotten."

"You're wrong. There is something better. I'm sorry you can't experience it."

"You mean love?," she disdainfully asks. "Love's just an addiction. You're addicted to Slayer pussy. You, and every other man in this family. It's a weakness. A disease. You're a junkie."

"We're all hooked on something."

"For you, it used to be putting the arrogant humans in their place. No you're working for one. You're working for someone who wants to kill me!"

"One more reason for you to stay away from us."

Tears well up in Elektra's eyes. "You ruined it. We had this perfect moment, and you go and ruin it." Elektra runs away.

NEXT: Elektra and Jeta get their Spike on.


	39. What Elektra's got against Harmony

Devlin drives his convertible east on Wilshire Boulevard, towards the downtown loop. As he sits at a traffic light, he hears a slight rustle to his right. He looks over and sees Spike in the front passenger seat. "I'm flattered," Dev says. "I didn't think I was the one you would be looking for tonight."

"You're not. Have you seen her?"

"Twice. That's odd. Figured she's look you up first."

"She'll find me when she's good and ready. Until then, I don't think it's wise to surprise her."

"Something you should have told Angel."

"Wut wus that?" Dev's so eager to tell the tale that he fails to notice the light turn green until the man behind him honks. He gives him the finger and takes off.

"Usually I kill a man for disrespecting me on the road. Remember that rest stop on the New Jersey Turnpike where I killed that guy in front of his children? You were somewhat impressed. Though you couldn't understand why I let the children live."

"She met up with Angel?"

"I met up with her, saved a couple lives. He met up with us, and tried to kill me for my good deed. Jealousy, I suppose. Really stupid move, since it made us both his enemies, and you know how formidable we are as a duo."

"You didn't kill him?"

"Didn't need to. Poor sap couldn't walk after we were through with him."

"You don't say," Spike replies, trying to conceal his glee, as well as his paternal pride in his offspring.

"I just did. But that was about it for the sibling bonding. Leks wants me to go with her on some jihad against Buffy. But I'm happy where I am. I really don't see the need to start a global insurgency so long as the Slayer Queen stays away from my Slayer. Sis didn't take it too well. She makes it sound awful apocalyptic out there. A Slayer round every alley. That sorta thing. But I think she can take care of herself. Don't you?"

"If she stays careful. But you know how much she hates doing that."

"Otherwise, why would she come here? Unless she was confident you'd never stake her. Even though it would save human lives." Spike reaches into his coat pocket with his left hand, pulls out his stake and jabs it towards Dev's heart. Devlin grabs Spike's left wrist with his right hand as he keeps his left hand on the wheel while still driving.

"Wut makes you think I won't stake you?"

"I save human lives."

"For how long?"

"I've lasted five months without killing. I stopped having cravings two months ago. On the other hand, I still do crave Debbie."

"You can crave both. I did."

"Yeah, well, we're different. You've always known that I was never in it for the blood lust. Is there somewhere you'd like me to drive you?" He looks to his right and sees that Spike's gone. Devlin stops his car right there on the road and runs after Spike's scent. He grabs him from behind on a side street and they both go down. "I wasn't finished."

"I'm sure you had a whole sonnet prepared about your Sacred Superior Slayer Love."

"Not about Deb. About Leks. Seeing her again, after having met a certain someone else, made me realize something. Elektra looks an awful lot like Dawn." Given all the things he's done with and to Elektra, Spike's more than a little grossed out. He tries to hide this by laughing.

"You're completely off your bird. They look nothing alike."

"Picture them side-by-side. Now tell me I'm wrong."

"You are."

"No I'm not. Just wanted to give you something to think about, considering how much time you must have spent around her - before getting your soul. Don't tell me it never crossed your mind." Spike strikes Dev with the back of his right hand, and Dev goes down. "You're right. Elektra's heels over head for you. That Dawn girl probably never even had a crush on you." Spike turns and walks away. Devlin chuckles, then remembers his car's in the middle of a busy street and dashes back towards it.

"I hope you understand," Spike says to a glum Devlin the night after Alexa rose. He's just explained why Dev has to ditch Meg.

"You don't like me hanging around humans."

"Not at all. But you're a big brother now. You have responsibilities. Who's going to be there to look after her when your mum and I are off hunting?"

"No one was there to look after me."

"But you're not a risk taker. Elektra is. She needs a down-to-earth guy to keep her from going off the rails." Devlin gets the subtext: she's exciting, he's boring.

"It's called natural selection, dad. Survival of the fittest. Maybe she's not fit. None of your others were."

"Elektra's special. She's the baby girl your mum always wanted."

"Perfect. She's the heir, I'm the spare."

"Hey Dev, Devlin. Don't say that." Spike puts his right hand to Dev's face. "Come on son." He rubs his hair. Dev smiles. Calling him "son" always does the trick. "We wouldn't have even considered having her if you hadn't turned out so well." Tears start to well up in Dev's eyes. Spike slaps him with his left hand, stands up and walks away in disgust. "Grow up. Boy's don't cry." Dev lies down. Elektra runs over and leaps on top of him, bouncing on her knees.

"Did you hear? We're going to 54!"

"Studio 54?" He pushes her off the bed. She hits the floor and bounds right up again. "What!?," Dev yells when he rises to his feet. "Spike, I thought you hated that place?"

"But Elektra wants to go. And tonight's her choice."

"Come on!," he whines. "Disco sucks. And coke's worse. You'll be up three days straight. And you know how jittery that stuff makes mom."

"She'll be careful, son. I've reminded her to eat someone who's had both coke and ludes. Then it all evens out."

"I hate that place."

"I thought you've never been?"

"Because I hate it."

"How can you know you hate it if you've never gone there?," Elektra asks.

"Girl has a point," Spike adds.

"Then I guess I'll be making my own fun tonight." Dru come out in a black sleeveless, backless gown. She spins around, her long straight hair bouncing off her bare skin, her skirt flying up. Dev smiles. His knees wobble. "Dancing it is."

The four of them wait outside the club. Alexa flirts with the cute boys who pass by. Spike and Dev have to hold her hands to make sure she doesn't attack someone in line. "Just imagine how jumpy she'll be after she drains her first cokehead," Dev jokes to Spike. Spike's altered his usual ensemble for the evening, wearing an unbuttoned, tucked-in white shirt with a butterfly collar over a black t-shirt. Over top of that is his long black jack. He has his left arm around Dru, who hangs onto him. Elektra's to his left, and Devlin's to her left, too far away from the object of his desire. Dev's got on a blue suit with a white shirt and white shoes. He feels his hair to make sure it's not sticking up, and altogether looks very self-conscious, contrasting with his much cooler family members.

"You look adorable, Devy," Dru whispers to him. "Good enough to eat." He almost thinks he hears his heart thump. He starts actually having fantasies about being in the club he loathes. Spike's off in some corner with Elektra, and he's on the dance-floor, spinning and dipping Drusilla like John Travolta in "Saturday Night Fever." Next thing he knows, the man behind the rope is pointing in their direction.

"You three can go in." They start to leave him, but Dev holds onto Elektra's hand.

"We're together. The four of us."

"You three can go in." Elektra lets go of his hand and they separate.

"Sorry," Spike offers as he looks over his shoulder. Devlin goes bumpy and growls. The doorman's used to rejected people resorting to violence. Even the undead variety. He doesn't even blink as the crowd screams. A bouncer standing behind the rope holds out a crucifix and spritzes Devlin with holy water. He snarls and runs away alone and humiliated. New York City can be so cruel, even to its cruelest inhabitants.

Spike sits at the bar in a strip club. Elektra enters. She wears white leather pants, a red belly shirt, a short blue denim jacket and black boots. The men turn away from the strippers to look at her. Several whistle. One howls. One of them stands up and looks down at her as she walks by. "Can't wait to see you up on that pole, honey." Without losing a step, Leks grabs his teeth with her left hand and yanks his jaw out of its socket. He falls down, grabs his mouth and tries to tries to scream, but just warbles. A man in front of her gets the message and tries to back away. She puts her right index and middle fingers up his nostrils and lifts him two feet in the air before dropping him as he screams for mercy. She turns to the bar, stands in front of Spike, takes off her jacket and tosses it on a man's head.

"You look well," he tells her. She just stands there, expressionless. "How many years has it been?," he adds after a few more seconds of awkward silence. She steps towards him.

"Every time I see your face I get all wet between my legs," she sings as she slowly pushes him back into the bar. "Every time you pass me by I heave a sigh and cry," she coos, smiling as she tries to grind into Spike's pelvis. Elektra knew how to get a man's attention. It takes Spike a few seconds to respond.

"Liz Phair."

"I can continue the song if you want. Every time I see your face I think of thoughts unpure, unchaste. I want to - "

"That's okay, pet." She leans her head inwards, rubbing her right cheek against his left cheek while sucking his earlobe and smelling his hair. "Happy to see me, then?" She grabs his butt and works her hands round front. It takes him a second to realize she's looking for something, and he reaches into his coat pocket for the stake. She takes her hands out and grabs both of his, biting down on his earlobe until it bleeds. "Ow!" She sucks a few drops of blood before looking him in the eyes.

"Bad daddy." She squeezes his left wrist and tries to break his arm. He lets go of the stake. She stares at him with her big blue eyes as she slowly takes a step back, keeping her hands on the bar on either side of him.

"You've been in town twenty four hours. And only now you come for me? I'm insulted."

"I was waiting for you to come to me." She leans in, licks his neck and smells his chest, grabbing both his wrists in case he thinks of trying anything. "You know how good my grip is," she says with a naughty smirk. Spike does his darndest to think unsexy thoughts, which is rather difficult in a strip club, especially while you're getting a free lap dance. Leks runs her hands down the arms of his jacket. "It's a little more wrinkled. But I still love the feel." She grabs his lapels. "And I can still smell Nikki. Can you?" She grabs his groin with her right hand and squeezes. Spike grimaces in intense pain. "You hypocrite. You can't keep acting bad when you stop being bad." She loosens her grip. Spike's relieved, then worried by what she's trying to do. "Is this better?" Spike grabs her right hand with his left and pulls it away.

"Did you honestly expect this to work?"

"Hey bartender. One beer and a strawberry daiquiri. Now." He drops his other orders out of fear. Elektra grabs Spike's pack of smokes, pickpockets his lighter and bums one. "I'm trying to make you uncomfortable. In that, I've clearly succeeded. Haven't I?" As she fondles his coat, Spike recalls her walking into his bedroom long ago, wearing nothing but that coat. He shakes his head and tries to get that image out of his head.

"You've always gotten what you've wanted from men."

"Not always. Not from you." The bartender gives them the drinks.

"Hey miss. No smoking."

"Either I smoke this cigarette, or I stick it through your eyeball." He can tell she's serious, and backs off.

"I'm not the real reason you're here, am I?"

"That's a complicated question, and I'm a simple girl."

"That's wut you like all the boys to think." She grinds into him again.

"Boys don't think. Except with this." He pushes her away.

"And Slayers?"

"No difference. They're all just looking for someone to stick it in," she says with a giggle. "What would Freud have said about them? I know what he would have said about you." She sips her drink.

"Let's not get obvious. At least not with our words." Elektra's always obvious with her body, though she likes to conceal her thoughts, which to her are far more intimate.

"So this new girl, does she mother you like mum did? Like Buffy must've? Cause I know that's what you like. I know that's why we could never work."

"New girl?" He gulps down his beer. "You've got me confused with another ensouled vampire."

"A far less attractive one? I don't think so. No, I do think you're way hotter. But I also think you're lying. Who's been fucking my multi-platinum hunk?" Spike puts his right hand through her hair and leans her head back.

"I don't know. Who's been tupping my blue-eyed beauty?"

"No one you should be jealous of. That's the problem of starting with you, Spike. I set my standards way too high. Let's face it, how many vamps are there who can hold a candle to you?"

"Shall we continue this outside? Otherwise, soon I'm going to have to start putting bills in your clothing."

"Not cool," she replies with a glare. Elektra sips some more of her drink. "Just let me finish. You know you're paying." Spike laughs.

"You could get anyone in this place to buy you a free drink, and you choose me. I'm touched," he quips.

"What can I say? I love playing men for saps." She grabs her jacket, puts it on, and takes a huge wad of cash out of her right pocket for a second, just to show she doesn't need his charity.

"Still robbing your victims?"

"And getting great deals for their stuff. The fences cut me a lot of slack. Mostly because they know I can kill them."

"So you can afford a one-way ticket out of here?"

"Don't worry. I'm through with this town. For now. The vampires here are such pushovers. No offense. I need a challenge."

They finish their drinks and head out the back door, Elektra walking behind him and holding both his hands to keep him from reaching for anything. Once they're outside, he throws her into the wall and takes his stake in his left hand.

"Not fair." He goes for her heart, she rolls to the left and Spike grabs her throat with his right hand. "You used to take your time. Why not tie me up and have some fun before getting rid of me?" She grabs his right arm with both hands, pulls it away from her throat and slams his chest into the wall. "I've learned a few things since our last time. Spike tries a left elbow. She leans back out of the way, but this gives him the chance to breaks free, push her back and turn around. He goes bumpy. So does she. "Does this make it easier?"

"With me, you were always easy," Spike rudely jokes. He blocks a right roundhouse kick. She blocks left and right punches. He blocks a right hook and lands one of his own.

"Is that why you jilted me for that dumb blonde?"

"Buffy is hardly dumb."

"I wasn't talking about her. I was talking about the vampire named for an Elton John song."

"Wait. You don't mean . . . she was what? How do you know?"

"It's a stupid name. It needs a stupid reason. The the two of us could have killed Buffy. But you and Harmony couldn't. She added nothing. And you knew that. Mum was right. You loved that Slayer all along." Elektra tries a cartwheel kick. Spike dodges to his right, pivots and lands a right hook kick to her stomach. She sweeps his legs and tries to run away. He grabs her right ankle and pulls her down. They both get up. Elektra takes out a three inch-wide throwing star from her back pocket and waves it in her left hand.

"You came prepared. Dev taught you well."

"I learn from my elders. He'd be forty six. I'd be forty two. Maybe with a couple kids and a house in Chatham. That's what you saved me from, Spike. The mediocrity of college and career and love and family. Well, not family. I still have that." He reaches for her left hand. She pulls it back and slashes for his left arm. He pulls that back and lands a right cross. "Course, it's a little dysfunctional now, what with daddy trying to kill me." She slashes with her razor-sharp star to keep his stake at bay. Spike knows she could cut off a hand with that. He's seen her do it, and he doesn't want to endure amputation. Again. Elektra can tell he's frustrated and stops slashing.

"Careful now. You let me live, I'm taking Buffy down." Spike smiles.

"Sounds like I don't need to kill you after all. Someone else will take care of that."

"Love you too, dad." She grabs his lapels, pulls him close, kisses him on the lips for three seconds, pushes him back, does a back flip and races off. The push made Spike off-balance, thus delaying his pursuit for a crucial second or two, which is all she needs. Elektra's always been very fast, even for a vampire. She gallops off with long, graceful, seemingly effortless strides. Spike decides to pack it in for the night. The girl got the message.

"Kids. They grow up so fast."

Elektra races all the way up the Hollywood hills and takes a panoramic look down at the valley. "What is wrong, with the men, in my family!?," she screams out into the night.

When Spike arrives home, he gets a surprise in the form of Angel, Gunn, Wes and Fred. Angel sits on the couch, his knee bandaged and his leg propped up. "Well aren't I a popular chap tonight."

"Throwing stars," Angel begins. "You could have told me about that."

"Yeah. It's kind of her thing. Dev taught her a good vampire always needs an exit strategy. So I suppose you could blame him. Did she put it in your kneecap?," Spike asks with a smile.

"I'm already blaming him. He did defend her."

"The boy has honor."

"What does honor have to do with it?," an outraged Fred inquires.

"He took an oath to defend her."

"Since when did vampires take oaths?," Angel asks.

"You're right. It was Dev's idea. He made it up. He's always been a strange boy."

"I thought you said he was on our side?," Gunn asks.

"He is."

"By aiding a mass murderer?," Wesley asks.

"If she attacks a person, he'll stop her. If someone attacks her, he'll defend her."

"So, he wants her to stay alive, but to starve?," Fred inquires, exposing the weakness of this reasoning.

"Did you finally catch up with her?," Angel asks.

"I did. We exchanged words. And punches. I didn't do anything rash. Unlike some of us. The girl's had her fun. She's moving on. What more could you want?"

"Her dead."

"If it's any consolation, she's gunning for Slayers in general and Buffy in particular. It's only a matter of time before she gets what's coming to her."

"Buffy, or the vampire?," Fred asks innocently enough.


	40. The Smell of Success

Devlin seduces Harmony with his gradiose plans. Elektra leaves LA and makes an attempt on Debbie's life. Plus, Jeta begins her private war with the Nazis, and comes across a lonely Spike along the way.

Harmony arrives home at half past two in the morning to discover Devlin leaning back on her bed, reading the dirty poems of Catullus. "Devlin? What a surprise."

"Sorry. It was comfy. I took my shoes off, so I hope you don't mind," he says as he stands up and puts them back on.

"What brings you here at this late, late hour? Shouldn't you be in bed with your Slayer?"

"She's sleeping. I decided to take a drive and think. Pretty soon, I found myself in your pretty neck of the woods and elected to stop by for a progress report. How goes the espionage?"

"Good. Really good. When are ya gonna kill my new friends? Now that they're real friends. Some of them are kinda gross. And a few think they can get in my pants, which is so not happening."

"Thursday. Friday at the latest. Be sure to meet new vampires every night. I'd like to eliminate as many autonomous nests as possible."

"And I'm still getting paid by the staked vampire?"

"Money is not an issue. At a thousand dollars a head, I have enough to purchase the deaths of every vampire west of the Rockies," he boasts as he slowly walks over to her. "But there are things money can't buy. Like prestige, and reputation. You want those things don't you? You want other vampires to think highly of you?"

"Don't they?"

"I'm talking about being able to enter any crypt, any catacomb, anywhere in the world and have other vampires rush up to you, eager to kiss your ass. Which, I imagine, is exquisitely firm yet delightfully supple," he adds with an impish grin.

"Do you mean do that literally?," she asks nervously. "Cause that's kinda gross." Devlin chuckles and stands to her left, whispering into her ear.

"I'm a student of history. Always have been. You know why? Because it helps me avoid the sort of grandiose fuck-ups that did in Spike. There are movements, waves that sweep away everything that opposes them. The trick is to catch the wave and ride it for all it's worth. Like surfing. Did you surf?"

"No."

"Neither did I," he responds with a shrug, moving over to her right ear. "Our wave is coming. Last year, the Slayers were nearly eliminated. But they hung on, and now the survivors are more powerful than ever. This year, it's the vampires who are being eliminated. But those of us who survive — if we survive — will have power and privileges beyond our current dreams. A new world is about to be created. The question is, which of us are strong enough to be a part of it."

"Me, hopefully," she offers.

"I hope so too. See Harmony, there are two kinds of vampires: those who deserve to die, and those who deserve to rule. The Slayers are doing us a favor by getting rid of the worthless riff raff. That makes our lives so much easier."

"How? Pretty soon the Slayers won't have anyone to kill but us."

"Have you ever been to Paris?"

"No."

"Would you like to go?"

"Yes," she responds with a big smile.

"Imagine being the only vampire in Paris. You could feed off whoever you want, without fear. No one would notice a few corpses in a city of five million. Slayers wouldn't bother to patrol it. They need nightly kills. Spending weeks hunting a lone vampire, that's tedious. They'll have better things to do. This is why your work in San Diego is so important. When they are only a handful of vampires in Southern California, Slayers won't waste their time coming here, and Buffy won't waste her money sending them. I'm creating a safe haven for the likes of you."

"But, but I don't hunt. Not anymore."

"Because of Angel and his well-meaning policies. Guess what? He's not going to be head of Wolfram & Hart forever. The smart money says there's a fifty percent chance he'll be gone by the end of May. Either the Senior Partners will force him out, or he'll destroy the LA branch, or die trying, or succeed in becoming human. After which I hope he'll get polio and spend his remaining days in a wheelchair since he doesn't have any vaccinations. Not because I dislike him, but for irony's sake."

"Where are you getting this from?"

"People on the inside. People in other branches. This is why he can't punish my sources. The place is seething. Ninety percent of the employees want to eat him alive. Fifteen percent of them literally. They follow his orders and pretend to be loyal, waiting for the signal from on high. Truth is, they won't get it. The Senior Partners think Angel's corruptible, which is why they've kept him alive all this time. But Angel's not my concern. Buffy is. Do you know what Wolfram & Hart thinks of her?"

"They hate her? Please tell me they hate her."

"They liked her so long as she was keeping the world from ending. But they disapprove of her current endeavors. I mean, the name of the game for them is demon protection. Hundreds of Slayers roaming the earth causes them a fair amount of anxiety."

"Are they working with you? To hurt her?," she adds with a hopeful smile.

"No. I'm not crazy about demons myself, and they're not ready to back an unproven asset. But it's nice to know I can fall back on their generous resources in the future, if need be."

"And where does Little Debbie fit into this? I haven't heard one word about her."

"Debbie and I have a splendid fifteen months left, until she graduates high school and goes on to college. After that, if anyone hurts her, I will exact painful reprisal upon them and anyone they care about. In the meantime, I have an organization to build. Even the strongest among us is powerless by themselves against a Slayer horde. We have to work together if we want to survive. Once we do, the Slayers will figure out which vampires are dangerous and which ones are dustable, and they'll leave us alone out of self-preservation. It's amazing what organized, disciplined vampires can achieve. Have you ever heard a dozen Slayers moaning and crying? Of course not. You've never even seen one helpless, desperate Slayer. But you can imagine it. Now multiply by twelve, and you'll understand what we can achieve. You want in?"

"Yes. Please. I mean, I'm working for you, aren't I?" She's amazed how charismatic the normal-looking Devlin can be when she's just listening to him and not looking at him.

"You and I, Harmony, we don't get to go to Heaven. But I believe that if we do the right things, we can each make our own little Paradise right here on Earth." That's what he has done in Laguna Hills with Debbie. "Don't you?"

"Who doesn't?," she weakly replies, having never conceived of her vampire life in such exalted terms. Devlin was so much more convincing that Spike or that Pyramid Scheme guy. Plus, he had one dead Slayer and twelve maimed Slayers to his credit.

"Keep up the good work." He leaves. No one had ever said that to her. Not even Angel, who she actually works for. Harmony realizes nerds are good for something: coming up with plans for world domination. She lies on her bed, and can smell Devlin. She smiles. He smells like success.

After incinerating Ivan, Jeta makes her way back to Auschwitz. It had been less than a month since he had taken her away from here. A guard in a watchtower sees someone approaching, and fires his gun to scare them away. Jeta leaps up into the tower and chokes the man to death, watching the life slowly leave his face. She takes his rifle, puts on his hat and coat leaps down inside the camp. It takes Jeta a little while to get her bearings and figure out which one of hundreds of identical sheds her family was in. This gives the other guards time to notice the intruder. She clubs to death the first guard who approaches her, and drives the rifle butt through the skulls of the next two. The guards may be elite SS, but they're not used to people breaking INTO a concentration camp, and take a little while to react. Meanwhile, Jeta finds her old quarters by the identifying numbers on the building. The Gypsies are startled to see one of their own armed and dressed like a Nazi. And a woman, no less. These are different people. Her family's already gone. She has this sinking feeling as it sets in that she will never again see anyone she has ever known in the past. All that scheming against Ivan and his minions distracted her from the fact that her life had been completely and utterly obliterated. If she went home, she'd be hunted down, and not just for being a vampire. Her world was gone. Sure, that's the case for any vampire. But at least Spike still had London. Angelus still had Ireland. And they each had Drusilla and Darla, respectively. Jeta detested her sire. She was a stranger in a strange, war-ravaged land.

All this introspection distracted her from the vital task of making a clean getaway. The sound of boots approaching reminds her of this necessity. She runs out, holds the gun at her hip and shoots down five soldiers to her left. To her right, a soldier barks in German for her to put down her weapon. She turns and sees eight men with eight guns, all pointed at her. She drops the rifle — which was out of ammo, anyway — and puts her hands up. "Surely, it doesn't take eight big, strong men to overpower a lone, frail, young woman?," she asks coquettishly. The men open fire simultaneously, putting eight bullets in her chest and sending Jeta flying backward. They stand over the corpse. Then an officer takes out his pistol to put two bullets in her brain, just to make sure. Jeta kicks the gun out of his hand and bounds to her feet, stunning the soldiers. "Those things really burn." She takes advantage of their utter shock to leap twenty feet away and make a run for it. But the soldiers aim and opening fire, pouring lead in her direction, hitting Jeta six more times before she falls down. Jeta crawls under a shed, hiding in the six inches between the floor and the earth. The soldiers inspect the area carefully, but can't find any signs of life. They leave, puzzled by what they saw and fearful about what they will tell theirs superior concerning the nine fatalities.

Two thing Jeta had never felt before as a vampire were fear and pain. She hated it. She hated the helplessness. She hated the loneliness. During the two hours she spent wedged under there, Jeta resolved to have her revenge, but in a less reckless manner. When she had not heard the sound of boots for a good while, Jeta decided it was safe to crawl out and sneak back over the fence. She limps, in great pain, to the nearest railroad tracks and heads west, jumping on the first supply train that passes by. She sits in an empty boxcar, painfully pulling out bullets and planning her next attacks. No vampire could take on an army. She would have to hit them where they were weakest.

"Lovely day we're having," Spike says to Angel Tuesday afternoon. "Makes you feel like standing up and jumping for joy. Oh. Sorry," he impishly adds about Angel's badly injured knee.

"That's strange. I thought you wanted her dead, on account of her being evil?"

"I also know she wants you and me to track her down. Just as she'd love you to send a few commando teams her way. Which, from wut I'm hearing, is just what you did."

"They're combing possible hideouts, trying to take her by surprise. The girl does sleep during the day."

"She's been known to pull an all-dayer. If you're lucky, you're just wasting everyone's time, and she's already moved on. If you're not, you'll be down a couple more bodies."

Debbie walks into her house at ten past seven at night, carrying a brown shopping bag. Devlin sits on the couch, watching the Jim Lehrer News Hour. "You're late."

"You were late coming home last night. I got your blood. Two half-gallons. Plus some nutmeg and cloves. I think by now the butchers just accept that I'm some freak." She puts the two bottles on the kitchen counter. Devlin walks in. There's some awkwardness when they meet in the narrow corridor between the refrigerator and the stove. "Room's all yours," Deb finally says, walking back into the living room.

"How did your chemistry test go today?"

"Fine."

"Do you need any help with that paper on the similarities and differences between the Populist and Progressive Movements?"

"I think I can handle it on my own." Suddenly the tedium is shattered as Debbie's front door comes crashing down off its hinges. Standing on the porch is Elektra. "What the fuck?"

"So this is Little Debbie." She has two inches on the Slayer. Debbie smiles and walks of to the vampire.

"You must be Devlin's kid sis." By now, Devlin has raced into the living room and tries to hold Debbie back.

"Hello brother. I'm confused. See, I searched and searched the good neighborhoods, only to find you living on the white trash side of the O.C. How beneath you." Debbie pulls back her right fist. Dev grabs her harm and drags her a few steps further away from the door.

"Let's not do anything stupid," he cautions to both ladies.

"Like kill a vampire? It's my job." She reaches into the weapons chest behind the couch and takes out a stake and crossbow.

"Gawd, this is so freaking ordinary," Elektra says as she looks into the house. "I thought the love nest of a sexy Slayer and her rebel vampire boy-toy would look a little more Anne Rice-y. Where's the hotness?"

"You're looking at her," Devlin says as he stands behind Debbie. She points the crossbow in her right hand at Elektra, who stands fifteen feet away. The vampire puts both hands behind her back.

"Oh, heavens to Betsy, she has a crossbow," Leks responds with mock fear. "You're not the first Slayer to try and kill me. Not even close."

"Did any of the others have backup?," Debbie asks. She puts her stake in her belt, pulls her left hand back and runs it down Dev's left cheek. He smiles and puts his right arm around her waist. It's the first time she's touched him since the nightmare. Devlin goes bumpy and leans his head a little to the left, putting the shadow of his fangs across Debbie's neck, tormenting Elektra by reminding her what the siblings could do if they worked together. He's glad to see it's upsetting his little sis. After all, he's always been her protector, from her very first night all the way up to yesterday evening.

"You're going to end up just like dad. You know that, right?"

"And who will you end up like? Mom? Or grandmom?" Leks is a little freaked by the reference to dead Darla. But she holds her ground, and the tense stand-off continues.

"Get off my property. Get out of my town. Leave my state," Debbie demands.

"Or what?," Leks asks with a wicked laugh. "You'll kill me?" Deb pulls the trigger on her crossbow.

"No!," Devlin screams, throwing Debbie to the ground and stepping in front of her. Leks parries the arrow with a two-inch star that she then tosses for the Slayer. Dev takes it in the ribs, and it bounces painfully around his insides. As Deb stands up, Leks fires two one-and-a-half inch stars designed for speed and penetration. The first one heads for Dev's throat or Debbie's face. Dev puts up both his arms to form an X, and the star slices a chunk off the top of his left forearm, spins through one left forearm bone and lodges itself in the other. The second star goes through the left side of his stomach, comes out his lower back, breaks Debbie's skin and bounces off her lowest rib. Elektra looks at her mangled brother on the ground, shakes her head in disappointment, and takes off. Debbie gives chase, her stake in her left hand like a relay runner's baton. She's caught every vampire she's chased, but she can't catch Elektra, who actually builds a hundred yard lead over the mile they run. Leks stops in a parking lot just off the highway, gets in, starts up as Debbie closes in on her, gives the Slayer the finger out her window, cuts off traffic on the on-ramp, nearly causing a four car pile-up, and gets onto the interstate. Debbie catches her breath and heads home. She looks inside the doorway and sees Devlin. Given the speed of the fight, she hadn't notice how badly he was hurt.

"Oh God. Oh God. Dev, I'm so sorry," she says as she rushes to his aide. "I'll take you right to the hospital." He chuckles.

"Vampires don't go to hospitals, love. Just get some bandages."

"Your arm is about to fall off! It's hanging on by a thread."

"I'll be okay. I just have to wrap and immobilize it."

"You're bleeding. Really badly."

"Yeah, I've ruined your carpet," he jokes.

"Don't move." She rushes off to grab her first aid kit.

"It's nothing personal, Deb. My sister's never liked any of my human friends." Debbie comes back and wraps gauze around his badly-bleeding left arm. "Put that chunk of my severed flesh in the trash, would you love?" She looks over his right arm.

"What do I do? What do I do?"

"Get some tweezers, pull out the star."

"Couldn't that make it worse?"

"Not as bad as having a sharp chunk of metal in my arm forever. Just pull it out the way it came in." Debbie thinks tweezers will be too weak, and fetches tongs. "Are those sterilized? No matter. Not like I'm going to get an infection."

"Hold still." She puts her left hand on the far side of his arm to hold it together, reaches the tongs in, struggles for a few seconds, then pulls them out.

"Ow!"

"Dammit! It slipped off."

"What?" She reaches her fingers in and pulls the star out by had. "So, how do I feel on the inside?," he jokes.

"Cold, and mushy," she responds while wiping her fingers clean.

"Umm, there's still the matter of bandaging my arm together." He puts his left hand to his right wrist and adjusts the forearm while grunting. "There. That's about where the bone should set. Now put them on lightly. Otherwise it could squeeze the bone apart."

"You sure are fussy."

"How would you be in my situation?"

"Possibly passed out from the shock."

"And the blood loss. Which would make my job that much easier." She slowly and carefully wraps his forearm.

"How's that?"

"It should hold."

"Can you walk?"

"Can you carry me?"

"Okay, I guess you've earned it," she concedes with a small smile. Debbie props the front door back up, picks up Devlin and takes him to her bedroom.

"I meant the couch."

"No, no. You're staying in here tonight. So I can watch over you."

"Where will you sleep?"

"Well, you know, I got that paper to write. If I finish, I'll just lie on the floor."

"Of course. I am kind of fragile, now. And if we were in the bed together, and you rolled over on my arm."

"Right." Talk of being in bed together makes nervous.

"Deb, wait," he cautions as she gets to her door. "I'm still bleeding." She sees the trail of blood that's followed him.

"Damn! How'm I gonna get that out?," she jokes about the carpet as she ducks into the bathroom to bandage the entry and exit wounds from the last projectile. "There you go. All plugged up."

"One problem." He rolls on his stomach. "Do you see anything on my back?" Debbie looks close and is alarmed to see the first star lodged next to his spine.

"Oh my God."

"Can you cut it out?"

"Yeah. I think so. Eww. And, wait. It's kind of near your spinal cord."

"Figures. That's where it hurts. So take a knife, cut it out and bandage me up. Then, wash all the blood out of the tub, or else the next time you take a shower, it'll be pretty gross."

"What would have happened if it went through your spine?," Debbie asks nervously.

"I'd be paralyzed. Temporarily, of course. Spike had that happen once. But I think he also had a couple broken vertebrae, so this wouldn't be as bad."

"You sure you wouldn't die? Cause like twelve inches further up, and that kills a vampire." There's a few second's pause.

"I told you I'd die for you, Deb."

"I'd prefer it if you didn't." Dev smiles.

"That's sweet, Deb. Now be a dear and stab me in the back."

After washing up on the New Jersey Shore, Spike took the train to New York City and caught a British merchant carrying supplies for the invasion of Sicily. In Casablanca, he was able to board a boat for Cadiz in southern Spain. From there, he went up to Seville and began searching for Drusilla. Given how easily Dru stood out, she shouldn't be too hard to find. Spike sets himself down with a bottle of wine in a dingy tavern, where three male guitarists strum away while an attractive woman dances the flamenco. About a dozen onlookers clap with the beat and cheer her on. A dark-skinned woman stands up and starts dancing next to her. Then, to the shock of everyone, the stranger starts dancing with the woman, as a man would. Spike's intrigued. The woman seems helpless to resist Jeta's advances as they whirl around. Spike leans forward as things get increasingly heated. Soon he's on the edge of his chair. They get closer and closer, until they're doing something Spike's pretty sure isn't the flamenco. The woman tries to resist, but Jeta's grip is too tight. She spins the helpless woman around in a demented waltz. After all that time at sea, Spike's missed the fairer sex. Especially such pleasing examples as these two. The music gets faster and faster. The dancers twirl around as if glued together. Then they stop on a dime. Jeta tries to kiss the Spaniard on the lips. When she is rebuffed by the horrified woman, Jeta goes bumpy and bites the left side of her neck. The music stops at once and people scream and evacuate. Spike smiles ear-to-ear, stands up, goes bumpy and starts to slowly clap.

"Bravo. Bravo! Now that's a bloody show-stopper." When Jeta is finished lustily draining the unfortunately attractive woman, she looks her fellow vampire over. He wears a long dark brown leather coat, like many of the Nazis. But he speaks English. Perhaps he's working as a German spy.

"I kill all National Socialists, even the vampires," she says in German. "Join me, or face my vengeance." Spike recognizes "nach-zehrer" as a German word for vampire, but that's about it.

"The name's Spike. William the Bloody. Perhaps you've heard of me. I've never heard of you. Which is a bloody shame." Jeta begins to sense that this gentleman isn't German.

"Vil-helm."

"Yep," Spike replies with a chuckle. "I Vil-helm, you Jane."

"Vil-helm," she says again pointing at him. "Yetta," she adds, pointing at herself. Each of them assumes the other's an idiot.

"Yetta. That's a funny name. You know, you don't look German." She puts her face within a few inches of his and carefully surveys Spike's head. Wow, this woman was beautiful. And strange. Plus a little bit scary. All of which Spike liked. She runs her right hand through his hair and pulls a strand out by the roots. "Ow! What the bloody hell?"

Jeta holds the dark brown hair in front of Spike. She shakes her head. "No. Wrong. Hair wrong." She's knows more English than Spike knows German, which is not a lot. "Hair wrong," she repeats. Spike's used to women who don't quite make sense, and quickly figures out what she's getting at.

"You're right. I dyed my hair to make myself a little less conspicuous. The Krauts want to use me as a secret weapon against the Yanks. I'm very much in demand," he brags. Then he wonders how she knew this. Jeta grabs his shoulders, pulls him close and bites the left side of his neck. "Ow! Oww!!" This wasn't a playful bite. She stuck her fangs way in there and drank deep. He growls and pushes her away. Jeta falls down and looks up at Spike. She had such captivating eyes. Then, suddenly, those eyes turned blank for about ten seconds as she stood up and seemed to go into a trance. When she came out of it, she slowly walked over to Spike.

"Drusilla, Angelus, Das Boot, Kaldarash, armán." She then starts giggling uncontrollably and falls to her knees. The last word is Romani for curse.

"You're a Gypsy," Spike guesses. She stops laughing and looks up at him.

"Sinti."

"Whatever. Anyway, Yetta, if that's your name, I'm looking for a woman about your height. Goes by the name of Drusilla." She stands up and smiles.

"Drusilla? Frau!" Spike begins to suspect this German-Gypsy-vampire is also a lesbian, and quite possibly some sort of witch. Jeta's getting annoyed with Spike not understanding her, but thinks he can be of some use, especially now that she knows the Nazis kidnapped him. Jeta draws a swastika on the floor with the dead woman's blood. "Hast," she says, pointing at the symbol. "Hast."

"Okay," Spike replies, unable to comprehend her reference to their shared hatred. Frustrated, Jeta makes an X across the swastika. "Oh. Kill Nazis. I can get behind that. I'm sure we'll run into a few on my way to Dru."

Until she can find a translator, Jeta decides to communicate with Spike in the one language all men understand. She kisses him on the lips and puts her right hand in his pants. Spike's eyes bug out. Maybe she wasn't a vicious, man-hating lesbian. For her part, Jeta wasn't seducing Spike because she found him attractive. She was trying to enslave him so he'd do her bidding, just like Ivan. After a few seconds, she stops kissing and fondling Spike.

"Sure. If that's the direction you want to take things," he says with a smile. She takes his left hand in her right hand and leads him back to her place.


	41. Jeta uber alles

Jeta and Spike impress and seduce each other with their abilities. Deb wrestles with her doubts about her soulless boyfriend. And Oz continues to wedge himself between Nina and Angel.

Before heading off to school Wednesday morning, Debbie drops her paper on Devlin's face, waking him up. "I finished it, in case you were interested."

"Can you pick it up, love? My arms are still healing." She grabs it and looks at Devlin lying there. Her expression turns serious. "Oh don't start empathizing with my injuries. I couldn't take knowing I caused you such pain," he jokes.

"We're so alone."

"Everyone's alone, Deb."

"Vampires wanna kill you. Slayers want to do God-knows-what to me. No family. Hell, I don't even wanna think what my dad would say about this."

"There's a place for us," Devlin sings.

"Stop it, Dev," she replies with a laugh.

"Somewhere, a place for us," he continues. She picks up a pencil and points it at his chest.

"I said stop it." She hates the "West Side Story" allusion because it implies their relationship is doomed to end in tragedy.

"Sondheim is an acquired taste," Dev quips.

"What you did last night reminded me of what we're about."

"Throwing ourselves in front of sharp projectiles?" She laughs, and a tear rolls down her right cheek.

"Standing up to the evil and the ignorant. Defending our right to be together." She doesn't realize this is circular reasoning.

"Buffy would the ignorant. Does that make Elektra the evil?"

"I think she's both. I don't think she understands love."

"Nope. Just desire. She's a satisfy-your-urges kinda girl. If it looks good, do it," he jokes.

"Right now, you're not looking so good."

"So you won't do me? Darn, I thought I'd get pity sex out of this." She looks angry. "Kidding. I kid."

"Right now, you rest." She brings a large cup full of blood with a straw to his lips.

"As if I didn't feel helpless enough." She pulls it away. "That doesn't mean I'm not hungry." She brings it back and he drinks.

"Obviously patrolling's out of the question tonight."

"Not to worry. I'm still trying to track down the hideouts."

"With more snitches?"

"I think they prefer to be called informants."

"But I think we pay them enough to call them whatever we want."

"No. We pay them to risk their lives and leave their homes. Getting away with insulting their dignity would cost even more."

"Vampires have dignity?" Before answering, Devlin finishes his drink. Debbie puts the empty cup on her desk.

"Of course, I'm willing to sacrifice mine for the love of a great woman." Debbie can't help but flash a small smile.

"Are you always this shameless?"

"Only when I'm this defenseless." She puts her left hand under his shirt and on top of his lifeless heart.

"I'll be home right after school."

"I almost lose an arm and suddenly you're devoted to me again. Wonder what you'd do if I actually lost the arm." Deb balls her right fist and prepares to punch Dev for the crass and insensitive comment, but instead just shakes her head and walks away. Every time she started feeling good about their relationship, he'd do something to remind her that deep down he was cold, unfeeling and soulless. And yet she still loved him.

Angel limps into Wesley's office. "If I'd known you wanted to see me, I'd have come over to you," Wes tells his grimacing boss.

"That's okay. I just wanted to show you I'm up and about today."

"You might still want to go easy on that leg. Even a vampire can't heal overnight from getting something lodged in the kneecap."

"It's just a minor ache. I'm better." Wesley reaches his left leg out as if about to kick Angel's right knee, and sees him bracing for the agonizing impact.

"Better?"

"I didn't say I was one hundred percent. If I could just get my hands on those two again."

"There were no vampire killings in this city last night, so Elektra has almost certainly left. From what I've heard, the girl is nothing if not ravenous."

"I'm still not sure if I should say anything to Debbie."

"If she has any illusions about who, or what, she's cohabitating with, your input won't help her see them. If anything, it would backfire."

"I know. But if he's straddling the line between good and evil, she has a right to know."

Cynthia meets up with her best friend at Deb's locker. "Rough night?"

"Not for me."

"You look tired."

"School work. For once."

"How are things with Devlin? You two haven't seemed very hunky-dory or smoochy-woochy as of late." Deb takes her books out and closes her locker.

"I'm sharing my bed with an unrepentant killer. Sometimes, that gets to me."

"I'd be worried for you if it didn't." They start walking to class.

"The scary thing is, he's still the nicest guy I've ever slept with," she confesses, shaking her head. "By a mile! Why do I have to look to the undead for a guy to treat me right?"

"I could say the same for Mel and Danielle."

"That's right. All your friends are dating vampires."

"Now that you mention it, I do run with a very strange crowd."

"Yeah, well, at least they're not in love."

"I think Diego is."

"That's just puppy love."

"Vampires can be puppies?"

"Ours can. They're vampires who don't bite. But they do think. You spend as much time with a guy as I do with Dev, and you start to wonder what's going on in his head."

"You're afraid that even though he isn't killing people, he might be fantasizing about killing people?"

"Or worse."

"There's worse. You mean killing children?"

"Well, I was thinking about rape. You know, of girls our age."

"Rape's worse than murder?" Cynthia thinks about what she just said. "God, we have strange conversations."

"It takes more time and effort. And when he's done, the person's still hurting. And crying. It just seems more vicious. Plus, vampires kill to live. Rape's purely recreational."

"This would make a great topic for the Debate Team," Cynthia jokes, both deflecting and highlighting the seriousness of the subject.

"I'm the only reason he's not killing. I used to think of that as an honor. Look at my power to turn evil into good! Now, it doesn't seem so simple. He wants to break up when I go away to college."

"You're a junior. Whoa. You guys are really thinking long-term."

"What happens then? He goes back to killing. That's what happens. Do I let him? Could I bring myself to kill him? And what does all this say about the man I love? What does it say about me that I can love someone like Dev?" Cynthia takes a few seconds to remark on whether her best friend has an evil side.

"It doesn't. You've never known that guy. Evil Dev is just an abstraction. Good Dev's the guy you see every day. He's the one you love."

"He's not two people, Cynthia."

"If there was an easy answer I'd give it to you, Deb. Then again, if there was an easy answer, you wouldn't be asking me these questions."

Spike rushes with Jeta back to his place and starts manhandling the dark, lithe beauty. But she resists, pushing him away. "Bloody tease. Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?" An empty clay pot flies off a shelf and smashes into the back of his head. "Ow! That makes two of us," he concedes, realizing he doesn't understand who he's dealing with. Perhaps threats weren't the best course of action. "Do you know where I can find Drusilla?," he asks slowly. She rips open his shirt and puts her hands on his chest. Then she pushes his back against the wall and kisses his neck. Spike likes where this is going. Of course, it's not going where he thinks it will. Jeta abruptly stops, takes Spike's hand, leads him outside and drags him down the street.

"Auto. Auto," she tells him.

"You want a car?" She runs into the middle of the road and stands in the path of an oncoming motorist. Spike's expecting her to flash the driver something, but she just stands there majestically, the wind blowing back her hair and causing her clothes to ruffle. The driver stops and honks. Spike takes a moment to enjoy the sight of Jeta front-lit by the headlights, then pulls out and eats the distracted driver. They both get in and he zooms off. "Where to, love?"

"Cadiz."

"She's not there. I checked." That's the only other place he's been since returning to Spain. Jeta seems to be leading him off-track.

"Cadiz!," she insists. Spike stops the car.

"I don't know who you think you are, but I call the shots around here." During their groping, she took his cigarettes and lighter without him noticing. She's smoking one now. Jeta quickly drops glowing ash on his right arm. When he reaches to grab the cigarette, she puts it out on the back of his left palm. Spike screams bloody murder and throttles the vampire. She just stares calmy into his eyes, and Spike slowly eases up. She licks his wounded hand. Spike was outraged at the insolence of her actions. But he was also more than a little turned-on, as Jeta knew he would be, by the burn. Spike begins to think that maybe this girl knows how to please him. He resumes driving and turns south. Jeta smiles and rubs his right thigh, confident that she has yet another man under spell. At this point, she plans to use and discard him as she did to Ivan. Spike doesn't strike her as special.

Deb comes home to find her boyfriend at the computer. "Dev, we need to talk."

"That's never good news."

"I need to explain why I've been acting different."

"No you don't. I know the reason."

"There's more to it than that." He stands up and turns around. "Let's sit down."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"No. God no! How can you even think that?"

"We need to talk.' You need to sit down.' These are classic preludes to a dumping. Trust me, I know."

"I just want to tell you why we're not fucking, even though I love you and miss our lovemaking. Greatly."

"Well, thank you, but I know the answer. The dream creeped you out."

"It did more than that. We've done very nasty after sparring a buncha times."

"Brawling's probably the better word for it."

"Exactly! Sex is violent."

"Like they say in that Jane's Addiction song."

"And sometimes it's hard to tell the two apart."

"Especially the way we go at it," Dev says with a smile.

"You got off on killing that Slayer. Like the way you get off with me?"

"No! Not even close."

"So it's a different kind of happy?"

"Sure. You make me feel stuff I've never felt before."

"Well of course that's what you'd say. You'd be an idiot not to."

"It's the truth, Deb."

"Am I a substitute for killing? Am I just a better high for you?"

"You make it sound petty. We're not petty, Deb. We're epic. What we feel is huge, and earth-shattering and unfathomable."

"I need to know I'm more than just a good lay to you."

"An incredible lay."

"You keep saying that loving me has changed you."

"Because it has."

"Then prove it." After a few seconds, Dev starts chuckling.

"So that's what's going on. You think I'm an addict and you're my orgasmic methadone. You want to see if I can stay off the juice without my nightly dosage. And sometimes morning, and mid-morning, and mid-afternoon, and mid-evening. Come to think of it, you're less like methadone and more like a bottomless bottle of Oxycontin."

"Just so you know Dev, I love you IN SPITE of your piggishness, not because of it."

"And I love you in spite of your new found chastity, not BECAUSE of it," he replies with a smirk. She shakes her head.

"You're horribly injured from saving my life, and still you make me want to kill you," she says of his anti-charm.

"Then we really are married." They both laugh.

"That would explain the no sex."

"Nina! How nice to see you!," Harmony exudes with false enthusiasm. Nina responds by smiling with feigned friendliness. "That time of the month again? And Oz! Don't worry. I'm sure Angel has a cage for you. One that's not next to Nina's, of course," she adds, referring to what happened the last time they both went wolfy. Oz still can't believe Harmony's both still alive and still working for Angel. "You can go in. You too, Oz. Make it a threesome." Harmony yawns from her lack of sleep after two late nights infiltrating the San Diego scene for Devlin.

Angel hugs and kisses Nina. "Great to see you. Oz?"

"Hey."

"I thought you didn't need to be locked up?"

"That's why I'm here." Angel looks confused. Nina tries to explain.

"Oz is teaching me how to be like him." That was an odd way of phrasing it.

"You mean teaching you how not to turn during the full moon?"

"Like him." Then she gets serious. "Angel, you heard what that doctor said. I keep changing and I'll be lucky to live till forty."

"That doctor's a little crazy."

"Yes. He's weird. And somewhat scary. But does that make him wrong? If he was such a quack, why does he work for you?"

"Point taken." Angel decides to change direction. "Nina, I'm glad you're doing this. It'll give you a lot more freedom."

"Plus, make more time for us." she says with smile.

"I'm gonna wait outside," Oz announces, feeling extraneous. "I'll try not to kill Harmony," he jokes.

"I didn't know you could get hurt," Nina says, commenting on his limp.

"Oh, this. It's nothing. Just a little ding from the other night."

"And you haven't healed?"

"I have. Mostly."

"So it used to be even worse?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Sorry, it's - "

"I understand. Whatever did this must have been pretty powerful."

"No. Just, sneaky."

"So. Are you and Nina close?," Harmony asks, trying to make conversation. Oz feels no obligation to be polite to soulless murderers, so he turns around and walks the other way. Now he sees Spike walking towards him. He wonders why Angel surrounds himself with such people.

"What brings Oswald back?," Spike asks Harmony.

"It's that time of the month. He came with Nina," she whispers.

"Really," Spike replies with a smile. "Those two sure are spending a lot of time together."

"I know."

"And Angel doesn't mind?"

"He thinks their just friends," she whispers.

"Speaking of just friends,' why do you smell like Devlin?" Harmony gets nervous.

"He's a friend of a friend. I saw him at a club last night."

"He wouldn't be using you to inform on Angel, would he?" Harmony gets very mad.

"No!," she whispers adamantly. "How can you think for one second that I'd betray Angel?"

"You're right. You wouldn't. Unless Dev were sleeping with you. But you're not his type."

"And he's not mine."

"Why thank you, Harm."

"I wasn't talking about you." Spike turns to his left to see Nina and Angel exit his office and walk off with Oz. He chuckles.

"Angel is so bloody blind."

"Oz would never try to steal Angel's girl. He's too laid back. Plus, Angel did save his life, so it would be kinda rude."

"And delicious."

"You're the blind one, Spikey. Oz completely has the hots for Nina, but she's googly-eyed for Angel. Oz's love is totally unrequired." Spike stares at her for a couple seconds.

"You mean unrequited?"

"Whatever. It always sucks being the third wheel, trying to get between the other two."

Spike and Jeta arrived in Cadiz shortly before dawn and crashed in a hotel room for the night. As she continued to refused his advances, Spike became more interested in her origins. Someone of her power and confidence had to have decades of experience. But the language barrier kept them apart. After sunset, she grabbed Spike's hand and took him to the waterfront. Jeta knew this port was crawling with German spies observing Allied shipping entering and leaving the Mediterranean and passing the information on to German U-boats. But being spies, they didn't make a habit of congregating out in the open. A tedious and circuitous search led Jeta back to the very hotel she was staying at. Spike kicks open the door, grabs the man closest to him and digs in. "Nein! Nein!," Jeta screams. She grabs the second man before he can jump out the window and drains him. When they're done, Jeta slaps Spike's face.

"Bloody hell, Yetta. Wut was that for?" She reaches her finger down, picks up some of the blood from Spike's victim, and slowly licks it. Aside from finding this incredibly erotic, Spike gets her point. She wanted both bodies. "You sure are a greedy girl." She pulls Spike close, kisses him passionately for a few seconds, grabs his arm and runs out of the room. Her ability to manipulate was matched only by her inscrutability.

They race down the streets for more than half-a-mile before Jeta stops at a house. From all the noise inside, it's clear the residence has been turned into a tavern. And from all the beer Spike can smell, it's most definitely a German hangout. She takes Spike's right index finger, pierces it with her left fang, puts the finger in her mouth and sucks up the trickle of blood, all the while staring intently at him with her big black eyes. "Kill. For me," she says, showing off her rudimentary English.

Spike goes bumpy. "I'll kill for myself," he replies. She purrs as him. Spike growls back, then gestures to the door. "Ladies first." Jeta kicks it down, and they enter. The patrons scream at the sight of these two monsters. Spike smiles. He's in his element all right. Spike rushes towards the back door, cuts off the fleeing people and starts biting.

"You shall all drown to death on the blood of my family," Jeta announces in German, blocking the front door. But the first thing she does is grab a pretty Spanish bar maid to sink her teeth into, which seems to contradict her expressed motive. "Line up in an orderly fashion," she tells the screaming mob. "After all, you are Germans!," she jokes. While Jeta enjoys taking her time and making the people wait in terror for the moment of death (much like concentration camp victims), Spike kills as fast as he can. Jeta watches, and is impressed with his ferocity. She's never seen a vampire tear into a crowd like this. Those near Spike start moving in Jeta's direction, or try to hide in the corners and under tables. She takes a German man in each hand and crushes their tracheas. Then she slowly bites other men one-by-one so everyone can see. Spike continues his chaotic ravaging. At one point, Jeta stops to admire his blood lust and destructiveness. But when he corners a man who pleads for his life in English, Jeta grabs Spike from behind and puts her right hand down his pants. Spike loves where this is going, and doubles his pleasure by biting the man in the neck. Jeta reacts angrily, squeezing and pulling. Spike yelps and stops biting.

"What is your bloody problem, woman?" Dru may be crazy, but at least she's consistent and understandable. Jeta grabs Spike's shirt and pulls him in the direction of the remaining men and woman who are trying to escape.

"You speak English well?," she asks the terrified bitten man. He doesn't respond. It seems an extraordinary question to ask during a massacre. "Do you speak English? Can you translate German to English, and English to German?"

"Yaah," he finally offers.

"Then you live." Spike's currently taking his time with another Spanish girl who's struggling and wiggling most enjoyably. Jeta breaks a glass mug and rushes over, slitting the throats of men who try to leave before draining one last man. When Spike's done, he belches and staggers around in bloated ecstasy. Jeta sticks her palms in the pool of blood on the floor, puts them on Spike's face and neck and licks it off. Spike falls on his back and laughs with glee. He licks her hands when she's done licking him. Then she dips her left index finger in the blood, smears it on her lips and Spike's lips like lipstick, and kisses him for about a minute. Clearly, this maddeningly unpredictable woman knew how to have fun on occasion. His patience had finally paid off. The lone survivor turns his head away from these abominations, falls to the floor and starts blubbering at all the carnage and the horrible smell.

"Can we shut him up?," Spike asks. Jeta laughs at the absurdity of this suggestion, walks over to the man and says something in German. He looks up at Spike and begins to speak in English.

"I was turned into a vampire six months ago outside the Auschwitz concentration camp, where a slob named Ivan met me. He wanted to make me his slave. Now he is dead. I killed him as I had killed all his followers. The National Socialists are slaughtering my people. They have turned my homeland into a foreign country where I am not welcome. I shall kill them at every opportunity. My mission is to make them pay with every drop of blood in their bodies." When he says this last sentence, the man looks particularly nervous. It's tough translating someone's vow to kill you.

"I get it. He's our translator." The man translates this. Jeta says a few words.

"She says, you are not bright.'" He scowls. "But you are a magnificent wild animal.'" She says a few more words. "It is a joy to watch you kill." Spike smiles.

"And you are beautiful and intoxicating," he replies as he staggers over. "I'm drunk with you, Yetta." She laughs at the cheesy line and hugs him. They roll along the ground, only to be interrupted by sirens. Jeta grabs their translator before he can escape and the three of them dash out the back door. Jeta makes the hostage lead them back to his apartment and invite them in. Spike rips up a few shirts and uses the cloth to chain the hostage to the bedpost. He sits on the floor with his arms behind his head.

"You want to see your sire more than you want revenge against the Germans for kidnapping you," Jeta tells Spike.

"How did you know about that? Has it gotten out? Bloody hell. I'll be humiliated."

"Arati," she says. The translator looks confused. "It's Romani, Dieter," she assures him. "When I taste someone's blood, I learn things about them. Usually it's annoying. But sometimes it can be very useful."

"That's how you knew where to find the Germans! The guy you killed at the hotel went to that bar." Spike recognizes that this gift could be immensely helpful for him.

"Tomorrow, Dieter buys a private train car to Madrid." Dieter does not look amused. "Or, I could kill you." He realizes eventual bankruptcy beats imminent death. "We ask about Dru in the capital, and work from there. My guess is she fled the Nazis out of fear and is somewhere where they are not in control." Spike finds the take-charge attitude of this newbie quite ridiculous.

"You've never even met Dru. Where do you get off reading her mind?"

"I know what it is like to be alone and afraid." She takes off Spike's coat and unbuttons his shirt. "She misses your strong, sure, comforting grasp. A girl can feel very safe in your arms. Or so I imagine." It's strange for Spike to hear these lines from a man.

"Bollocks to imagination." He grabs Jeta, kisses her, tosses her on the bed, rips off the rest of his clothes and she takes off her own, and leaps under the covers with her. For now, he's not worried that this could be another one of her ploys. Jeta has a way of making even veteran vampires throw reservation to the wind. She's also great at convincing men they're in charge when in fact they're just being used. Dieter averts his eyes, but can't cover his ears to muffle the noise of what's going on a few feet away.

NEXT: Deb, Dev and Harmony go to war in San Diego. Jeta is disappointed by Dru's reaction to her romantic overtures. And Elektra becomes the Big Bad in Cleveland, leading what's left of the local vampires against Vi and Rona.


	42. Don't diss Spike around his daughter

"Are you sure your arm's okay?," Deb asks Dev as he drives into downtown San Diego.

"I'm healed," a slightly annoyed Dev assures her.

"I don't mean to be rude. But if I got sliced that badly, it would take me more than two days to recover."

"I heal faster than you. Slayer or not, you're still human."

"Thanks for the reminder," she says sarcastically.

"It's always important to be careful."

"I meant, thanks for reminding me of your nature. But, what I really meant is, I wish you hadn't brought it up."

"Ah yes, sarcasm. I've never been a big fan of that. Even when I was quote-unquote evil. Which I no longer am."

"Then why the quotation marks?"

"I never was self-consciously evil. I never took pleasure in shocking human moral sensibilities by killing babies and such. That's why Spike always said I was an odd one."

"You're saying you've always been kind of good?"

"No. I was just amoral. Neither good nor evil appealed to me. Now I've made a choice."

"So did I. We're either both right, or both wrong. Hope to god it's not the second one." She takes off her crucifix and touches it to Dev's right shoulder.

"Ouch!"

"Maybe I shouldn't be putting my hope in God," she darkly jokes. "Doesn't look like he's on our side."

"He did let me lose my soul. He did let my family get murdered. He appears to be on neither side." The effectiveness of religious talismans has always intrigued Dev. On the one hand, it proves that vampires are enemies of God. Yet this same God allows them to kill with impunity. Furthermore, the symbols can be used even by non-believers, which, in his view, cheapens them.

Devlin drives into the parking garage at Horton Plaza, a twenty five acre mall in the heart of downtown San Diego. Deb's friends follow him down to the basement level. Everyone gets out. Harmony comes running over. "This is your intelligence?," Debbie asks. "Her!?"

"Just cause you're a Slayer doesn't mean you have to get all bitchy," Harmony responds. Then she yawns. "Did we really have to do this so late? I have to get up in five hours, and it's a ninety minute drive back home. Which means I'll only get like - "

"It still cracks me up that you've gone straight," Sidney says. Harmony gasps.

"I was never NOT straight! You're the one who talked about getting lesbian urges."

"You get what?," Diego asks.

"Baby, she's taking that way out of context. Just like she mistook what I just said."

"Can we get on with the slaying?," Debbie asks.

"Just as long as I'm not one of the slayed," Harmony responds.

"Fine. You lead the way."

"So you can stake me in the back?" Devlin puts his left arm around Harmony's shoulder.

"Relax Harm. I got your back. It's not like I'd have my girlfriend kill you so I wouldn't have to pay you," he jokes before walking away. Naturally, Harmony doesn't appreciate the joke. Sidney walks up.

"Don't worry. I got your back, too. We all do." Harmony looks around, counting six humans and five vampires, including herself. Those seemed like good odds to ensure her survival.

"Follow me," Harmony says, enjoying being the center of attention even for a brief while. "Living at the mall seems cool," she comments as they wind down dark, labrynthine halls leading to basement storage and utility rooms. "All the people you can eat. Lots of clothes. Tons of stuff to steal. Plus, a multiplex with IMAX. You'd never even have to go outside."

"But there haven't been any killings at this mall," Cynthia notes from their research.

"Of course not," Dev adds. "Why ruin a good thing? Why draw attention?"

"How old are these vampires?," Theo asks. "In human years. Living at the mall seems like such a teenager thing to do."

"I think two of the four guys are in their late twenties. The two girls are older than me - like, early twenties. They say they like it cause there's lot of places to hide and run away to."

"Good point Harm," Dev compliments. "First thing we do is surround them, cut off all routes of escape."

"The room's not that wide, but it's really long," Harmony reports. "There's air vents, and I think a hidden door in back."

"What did you have to do to get in so good with these bad guys?," Debbie asks, implying sex or murder.

"One of them really wants me. Which is sorta disappointing. There's four guys, and usually I expect least half the guys to drool over me."

"You don't know. A couple of 'em could be gay," Sidney jokes.

"Are we close?," Devlin whispers.

"Yeah. It's right around the corner."

"Then quiet. The rest of you, wait for the signal." When they get to the door, Dev hides along the wall and Harmony knocks. A vampire slides back an eye slit and takes a look out.

"It's me," Harmony says with a smile.

"At this hour?" She bites her lip, smiles and bats her eyelashes.

"I wanted to spent the night. Not the whole night, cause I can't drive back in the daytime. But, enough of it to, you know." The man walks away, and another man approaches. He looks out.

"I knew you'd be back."

"I knew you'd want me to be back." The door opens, concealing Devlin.

"Gilly!" Harmony wraps her arms around a tall, swarthy, stubbly man. "Oh Gilly." Dev grabs the door before it closes, sticks his gun in and blows Gil's brains out while Harmony rests her head on his chest. He falls down. "You fucking idiot," Harmony adds, enjoying being on the winning side and getting to make taunts. Dev steps through the door, and Deb races up behind him. The vampires leap off their futons and bean bag chairs.

"That's disappointing," Dev says as he strides forward and points his gun at the remaining five. "I was expecting more fear." The vampires go bumpy.

"We're not scared of you."

"Or me?," Deb asks. Her friends and vampires pour in.

"Or us?," Sidney asks. Like Paul, Luiz, Dev, and Harmony, she has her fangs out. The vampires do a quick head count and realize they're screwed. Three of them try to break on through to the front door. One climbs on top of the big screen tv, pulls open the duct and tries to crawl out. The final vampire races for the back door, which is one hundred feet from the front door. Dev can't catch him. But his bullets can, and Dev puts one in the back of the vampire's head (from eighty feet away) as he opens the door. Debbie runs over to the tv, leaps in the air, grabs the vampire's right ankle and pulls him back into the room.

"Coward."

"Sorry, didn't notice it was you," he replies, landing a right hook. "Guess that instead of running, I should have tried my best pickup line." She kicks his face with her right foot, but when she steps forward to try a punch he nails her with a left cross. "You're one of those Slayers who can't decide whether to kill us or fuck us." Dev lands a left hook and throws the vampire into the opposite wall. The vampire bounces off the wall, off the couch, onto his feet. "You think you'll be the only one?," he asks Dev with a chuckle. "Once they go vamp, they never go back. And they can't stop with just one."

"Is that an attempt to distract the Slayer and enable your escape?," Dev asks. Deb and the vampire exchange right hooks. He ducks a right cross, kicks her in the chest, turns left and races for the back door. Devlin's already there, his arms folded across his chest, a lit cigarette between his lips. A few seconds ago, Dev was to his right, fifty feet from the door. The dejected vampire turns around and gets nailed by Deb's left uppercut.

Meanwhile, Sid, Paul and Luiz each grab hold of one fleeing vampire to prevent them from attacking their human honeys. Paul finds himself on top of a female vampire. "A position you could get used to?," she asks with a smile. He tries a right jab, but hits only the floor as she slithers free. Diego hits her in the head with a baseball bat. Paul gets up and lands a right hook that sends her into the side wall, and his girlfriend Melanie drives a stave through her heart, getting the vampire back for hitting on her man. (Dev's equipped the humans with three foot-long wooden staves instead of one foot-long stakes because they're harder for vampires to block and the humans can use both hands to put more force behind them.) Sidney grapples with the other female vamp and gets pushed into the wall just to the left of the door. She lands a left jab and a right cross, taking a right hook to the face. The vampire reaches for the door, but Sidney grabs her shoulders. Cynthia, who's behind the vampire, drives a stave through her heart. The point comes out the front and ends up two inches from Sid's chest. Had she not leaned back at the last instant, it could have killed her. The vampire disintegrates, and Cynthia sees a spooked Sidney leaning against the wall.

"Gosh Cynth, I knew you didn't like me, but isn't this a little extreme?," Sidney jokes. Luiz and a male vampire end up rolling on the ground, so Danielle holds off with the staking for fear of accidentally slaying her boyfriend. The opponent eventually gains the upper hand, tries to rise to his feet and reaches for the door knob. Luiz drives his head into the metal door, gets up and throws the vampire back away from the door. Theo leaps to the ground in the path of the vampire, who trips over him and falls on his back. Diego stakes him, then helps Theo up. They high-five.

"Yeah! I make a mean speed bump," Theo jokes. Forty feet further down the room, Debbie, lands left and right punches to the face and a right roundhouse kick to the chest that sends the vampire back and onto the couch. She takes out her stake and dusts him while he's still sitting. Deb immediately rushes to her friends, and is relieved to see that their job is already finished.

"Told you they didn't need help," Dev says, having chosen to abstain from most of the fighting. The friends by the door hear a vampire moaning, and see Gil, who's had his brains blown out. Danielle walks over and raises her stave.

"Mind if I get this one?," Harmony asks. Devlin looks at Danielle and nods. She pouts.

"There's one more over here," Devlin assures her. He tosses his stake across the room to Harmony, who catches it in midair, smiles and dusts the erstwhile bad boy whose thing for her ended up doing him in. Danielle rushes down and puts the vampire lying in the back doorway out of his misery.

"You can stake one tomorrow night," Cynthia says to her boyfriend Theo, the only human not to get a kill.

"I don't mind. I'm a team player. Plus, I don't like getting dust on my clothes," he quips. "By the way, Devlin, couldn't you have just shot all the vampires in the head and saved the rest of us a lot of danger?"

"Yes, but where's the fun? Plus, you guys need practice."

Luiz and Paul check out the hideout. "Look at all this stuff!," Paul enthuses.

"Man, I want this stereo," Luiz adds.

"It's yours," Dev responds. "If you can carry it all the way back to the car."

"Alright."

"It's a long walk."

"I'm strong enough."

"You already have a perfectly good sound system."

"In the living room. Not in my bedroom."

"Exactly. I let you have one, pretty soon Paul and Sid each want one for themselves. Take this tv for instance. Thirty five inches." He puts his right foot through the screen. "How could I fit three of these into your apartment?" He slams his left fist through the top of the set. "Mind you, the apartment is spacious, but then I'd have give each of you digital cable in your own room. I'd have to buy some sort of splitter. Pay a little bit more a month." He continues trashing the set as he talks. "And then you'd never spend any time together. You'd loose your tactical cohesiveness. Your fighting would suffer, and some of you could even die." He finishes turning the tv into a pile of strewn glass, plastic and electronics. "Avarice destroys armies. The only way out is to destroy the stuff before the stuff destroys you."

"Is that your long-winded way of saying we should trash the place?," Sidney asks.

"Why yes. Yes it is." They smile and get to work, tearing down shelving, hurling couches, smashing chairs and bashing holes in the walls. The humans watch, Diego is bemusement, the rest in confusion.

"It's a harmless way of releasing pent-up energy," Devlin explains.

"Aren't their equally harmless but much more fun ways to do that?," Diego asks with a smile. Ah yes, sex. Dev had almost forgotten about the joys of post-fight sex.

"It's a different kind of energy. I trust Sidney isn't in the habit of breaking you in half like she did that coffee table. Is that mahogany? Pity."

"Is this part of the whole vampires-act-like-rock-stars and rock-stars-act-like-vampires phenomena?," Theo inquires, since this bares a striking resemblance to a band trashing their hotel room or smashing their stage equipment.

"You want an example of that, you should meet Dev's sire," Debbie says with a smirk. Devlin groans.

"Spike had the look way before Billy Idol. And at least he doesn't look Nick Lachey."

"What? Oh. Oh! Angel does NOT look like Nick Lachey."

Harmony's also weirded out by this comparison. "I completely agree. And if a Slayer and me agree on something, it must be right."

"Don't look at me," Dev responds. "I'm not the one who said it."

"Then who did?," Harmony asks.

Three nights after leaving Laguna Hills, Elektra arrives at the Hellmouth in Cleveland. "Man, what a dump," she says, laughing because it actually is a garbage dump.

Just to the south of downtown, in the heart of metropolitan Cleveland, is a wasteland five-and-a-half miles long and one-and-a-half miles wide, bordered on the west by interstate 71, on the north and east by interstate 77, and on the south by interstate 480. Running through the center is the Cuyahoga River, famous for once catching fire. Less than ten percent of the 5000 acre expanse is inhabited. A tiny sliver is parkland. The rest is waste, unwanted and unused. And for a reason. It's an epicenter of evil paranormal energy. The wise people of Cleveland learned long ago to steer clear of the Hellmouth. And when they got the chance, they further isolated this district by surrounding it with highways, none of which has an exit leading into the wasteland. Because of this, Cleveland's had far less trouble with its Hellmouth than Sunnydale. Yes, factories were built along the river, and a railroad to serve them, but demons are not in the habit of attacking iron foundries. And neighborhoods to house the workers and schools to educate their children sprouted up a safe distance away from the Hellmouth.

After the destruction of Sunnydale, many demons flocked to what was the one remaining Hellmouth in the world. But they soon found themselves depressingly isolated, and took up residence in the abandoned, cavernous mills and factories. While the demons chose to stay close to the Hellmouth's reassuring energy, vampires made forays into the populated parts of town, drawing the attention of local demon fighters and of the Council. Robin Wood, recently unemployed, became the principal of an inner city school near the Hellmouth. No matter what problems he encountered – gang violence, low test scores, high dropout rates, students attacking teachers – he could always tell himself it wasn't as bad as Sunnydale, and soldier through crises that would drive normal men to premature retirement. In his spare time, Wood acted as liaison between the demon fighters and the Slayers, reporting to Giles on what the locals needed to keep the peace. The arrival of Rona and Vi with the Scythe allowed him to not just keep the demons in check, but put them on the defensive. The two Sunnydale veterans were more than eager to kick butt, rule the Hellmouth and become the scourge of the demons. In less than two weeks, they drove the demons from their spacious above-ground abodes and laid virtual siege to the Hellmouth. It helped that their enemies were pitifully unorganized, as demons tend to be, especially demons not used to dealing with super-powered enemies. The full-blooded demons stayed in the sewers, fearful of popping their heads up to the surface lest a Slayer cut it off. They patiently bided their time, confident the Slayers would one day get bored and leave.

The vampires, who had to regularly feed and therefore expose themselves to danger, weren't so fortunate. The girls were called Vampire Slayers, not Demon Slayers, for a reason. While Slayers could learn to live with demons, so long as they didn't cause trouble, vampires were given no quarter. Not burdened with attending school, Rona and Vi were free to attack vampires night and day, bursting into their hideouts while the vampires were sleeping, catching them unprepared and unable to flee because of the sunlight. Most of those who were not slain fled the city. The stubborn few who remained huddled near the Hellmouth in constant fear of an attack.

Elektra finds them cowering in a cave cut into a giant slag heap. She pushes a heavy rock to her right to reveal another heavy rock blocking an opening. Inside, the vampires hear the outer rock being moved. Two of them grab weapons and rush to the entrance. "Hey open up," Leks screams. "Yo, I'm a vampire! Like you." She looks around at the post-apocalyptic landscape. "Only better," she adds under her breath.

"It's a trick," one of the vamps on the inside says to the other. "She's just some kid they brought to fool us."

"What's your name?," the other one yells.

"Elektra!"

"Never heard of it." A furious Lex goes bumpy, takes a few steps back, leaps at the door and knocks the rock over with a flying right kick. She is greeted with a blast of fire from a homemade flame thrower fashioned out of a blow torch and four cans of 10/W40. She spins to her left to avoid being incinerated.

"What the fuck!" The vampires stick their heads out and don't see or hear anyone else. Leks grabs them by their ears. "I said, what the fuck."

"Ow, ow ow. Okay, stop. We can see you're one of us." She lets go.

"You've really never heard of Elektra?"

"Sorry."

"Yeah. You're gonna be sorry."

"Come on in," the other one says with a smile. It's hard not to welcome such a beautiful, and evidently powerful, vampire. She barges past them and makes her way towards the artificial cavern. A third stone has to be moved to allow her into the main chamber.

"And I thought the dump was outside," she quips as she looks around with contempt. There's candle light and some battery-powered lamps. Stringing power cables or running a generator would only attract attention and bring about their doom. There are eight men and six women. Their clothes, hands and faces are dirty. "Fucking refugees," she says with a chuckle.

"We didn't run, like the cowards. And we weren't killed, like the weaklings," a woman says to the incredibly rude visitor in their defense.

"I didn't say you were without your good qualities. They're just not readily apparent." Elektra follows in her father's footsteps when it comes to diplomacy.

"You want in, I'd stop mouthing off," a man says to her a he and three others surround her menacingly.

"In this crap hole? You gotta be kidding." She leaps up onto the ceiling and walks backwards towards the wall, which she climbs down, well out of danger. "But I will help you kill your Slayers." Several men sitting on stone benches carved into the wall laugh. "Fine. Don't take my help. And keep living like this forever. I don't have to be here. I can go anywhere I want. Do anything I want. Slayers or no Slayers. I've fought 'em in Chicago. I've fought 'em in Denver. I've fought 'em in Orange County. Then I made a detour to Los Angeles. You know, Angel's town. When I was done with him, the boy wasn't able to stand."

"Bullshit!," a vampire yells. "I got friends in L.A. Ain't no way your skinny ass took him down."

"You got friends at Wolfram & Hart? Go ask them if he was limping this week. I can take on two Slayers alone, and walk away. I can take on one, and kill her. But I can't kill two. That's what I need your help for."

"How many have you killed?"

"None." They nod, confident this proves she's all talk. "But I have a distinguished heritage. Both of my parents are Slayer killers."

"Parents?"

"You think someone this fabulous could be made with just one?"

"Who?," the leader asks, standing up at the far end of the room. Elektra strolls to the near end.

"Drusilla. And Spike." A couple men snicker.

"Are you a lesbian?," the leader asks.

"No," she replies. "Sorry laddies," Elektra whispers.

"Then at least you won't fall in love with a Slayer," he jokes. Everyone laughs, making Elektra very angry. Apparently her beloved father had become something of a laughingstock. She couldn't stand for such a show of disrespect. Elektra takes out her pocket knife and hurls it at the leader's throat thirty feet away. It goes in while he's still laughing, and the tip pierces his spine between two vertebra. As he turns to dust, she whooshes across the room and grabs her knife before it hits the ground. Everyone shuts up. Elektra sits down in a throne the deceased leader had carved for himself.

"Very well then," she says with a smile. "The Hellmouth has a new queen. Any objections?" There's a long spell of silence, as the ten remaining vampires take stock of this seeming force of nature and decide to give her a chance to help them. The women look nervous, since the new queen will surely vie for the men's affections. The lopsided gender ratio had given them a newfound power that helped overcome the terror and tedium of life on the lam. Now they feared they would be forgotten. But when it comes to the new girl, the men are torn between lust and fear. Three of them carefully approach Elektra and move the lamps to better illuminate her majesty. "Thank you. Your kindness will not go unrewarded," by which she means she won't kill them anytime soon.

"Elektra. We're glad you're here."

"Really glad."

"Really really glad."

"Really?," she replies with a giggle. "On your knees," she orders the last one who spoke. After initial hesitation, he obeys. She smiles. "Come closer." He crawls on his knees until they're at her outstretched feet. "Closer." He leans forward. "Closer," she seductively coos, spreading her knees out wide. He smiles and moves his head towards her groin. Suddenly, she brings her knees in, slamming them into his ears. He moans in pain, rolls on the ground and grabs his sore head. She stands up and walks by her other two stunned would-be suitors. "That's as close as you'll get to me," she vows as she strolls powerfully across the room. When near the front door, she stops on a dime and spins around. "Until you kill a Slayer. I've been known to commit unspeakable acts of delightful degradation with Slayer killers." Just what these men needed to motivate them to risk their lives, Elektra thought.

"But that's for later. Right now, I'm going to leave this stinkhole, check into a very expensive hotel, have a long bubble bath, meet a clean, handsome man, fuck his brains out, suck his blood out, drop him in the river, and return to my soft bed for a good day's sleep." The girls smile, imagining themselves having such a dream night once the hated Slayers are no more and the town is theirs again. "Then I'm going shopping. Them I'm going to find these Slayer beyotches and observe them, spotting their strengths, and discovering their weaknesses." Elektra mixes Spike's arrogant contempt for his peers and Devlin's obsessional preparation with her own bubbly adolescent joi-de-vivre. "And then I'll return to prepare you for the fight of your lives." She walks to the door, then turns round once more. "Oh, and one more thing. Before I leave this town, I will put the bodies of those two Slayers on the Hellmouth trash heap to be picked over by birds. "Bye-bye," she says with a girlish wave before disappearing. Maybe she was a fraud, nothing but big talk. But she gave them hope, which was something these vampires had given up on.


	43. Bare naked vampire

Elektra makes quite an impression Vi, Rona, and by extension, Buffy. Meanwhile, Harmony tries, with Dev's help, to gain the trust of Debbie and her friends.

Buffy walks out to join Giles and Gretchen, who sit in the courtyard at the Slayer School, sipping afternoon tea. "You had bad news?"

"Yes. Buffy, we've reviewed the evidence Robin has sent us, and we've determined that there were no W.G.D. in Cleveland."

"W.G.D.?"

"Weapons of Global Destruction," Gretchen explains.

"There was no apocalypse to prevent," Giles adds. "Rona and Vi and the Scythe were sent in vain."

"No they weren't. There are a lot of demons — evil demons — who are dead because they went to Cleveland. You can't tell me the word would be better off with all those vampires and demons still alive."

"It's a question of resource allocation, Buffy," Giles responds. "We could have continued staffing the Hellmouth with two less-experienced Slayers and used Rona and Vi to handle the "Samauri Vampire" in Tokyo who's given our Japanese Slayers quite a bit of grief.

"Before we send the Veterans, we were treading water in Cleveland. Now we're making a difference. We're rolling back, rolling up, I don't know, just plain rolling over the evil."

"Buffy has a point," Gretchen concedes, trying to use her skills as a professional diplomat to bridge the gap between Buffy and Giles. "We've made the Hellmouth a less-than-inviting place for demons, and that's a huge accomplishment. They've worked really hard. I think we should give Rona and Vi a weekend to kick back and play hard in Manhattan before flying them out to Japan. That's where we need their experience now." Slayers who had not suffered the trauma of fighting uber-vamps had trouble dealing with elite warrior vampires, and often fled rather than risk their lives. The other ninety-nine percent of vampires they eagerly dusted. But a single representative of that one percent could send even two or three rookies dashing for home. In these situations, it was essential to have at least one Sunnydale veteran who could inspire the newbies to stand and fight.

"Tokyo's nowhere near crisis mode," Buffy retorts. "Not a single Slayer has died there."

"Buffy, it's only a matter of time."

"Why not send Chao-Ahn?"

"She's very busy in Taiwan."

"We have other Veterans."

"Who are all deployed in the field. Buffy, we're stretched very thin as it is."

"What about Matilda? She should be healed up in a couple days."

"A week at the earliest." Devlin and his friends had put one-quarter of Buffy's elite forces in the hospital, for which she hated him (and Debbie) with a fiery passion.

"We have Bonnie and Caroline ready to take the field on Saturday," Gretchen points out. "They can go to London. Ruth and Sarah can shift to Boston. And Laura and Francine can move to Cleveland."

"Taking out Rona and Vi only gives the vampires a chance to regroup," Buffy counters. "I say we let them finish the job."

"Buffy, there is no finish," Giles retorts with a sigh. "You'll never have a demon-free Hellmouth."

"I'm just talking about mopping up the pockets of resistance that remain. Vi told me Tuesday night she doesn't want to let them get away."

"Before we make any decisions, let's talk to Robin, and see what the situation is on the ground," Gretchen suggests.

"Fair enough," Buffy concedes.

"It's what, 10:15 in the evening over there?," Giles asks, accepting Gretchen's compromise. She smiles at Rupert, having saved him the indignity of getting directly overruled by Buffy yet again. Dawn comes running out.

"I think the new girl from Finland just got her nose broken by the new girl from the Ivory Coast. Don't worry. It wasn't anything personal. And it's not my fault. I told them to wear boxing gloves. But you know how Slayers are."

Debbie finds Devlin on the floor in their training room, looking over a large map of the San Diego harbor. "They're doing the market wrap-up on CNBC."

"I'm sure they're being irrationally exuberant."

"You mean like my friends? Diego and Theo are starting to get pretty cocky about their Slaying abilities. I don't need to tell you how much Mel and Danielle believe in their boyfriends' invincibility. All of a sudden, we're not the only power couple." Each of the vampire-human couples has learned how to quickly dispatch a single vampire without much trouble. Deb worries what will happen when they're faced with two, and the vampire member of the couple can only fight one at a time.

"We'll have to steal a boat. No. Maybe two boats."

"What are you talking about?" Devlin starts to giggle.

"I've got it! A Trojan Horse. This will involve putting your friends in danger."

"I put them in danger by bringing them along."

"No. Danger without us there to protect them."

"What!?"

"For only a few minutes. But it's a party. I doubt they'd dig in right away."

"You are not using my friends as bait. Again. Without me being around to save them if something goes wrong."

"It's up to Harmony. She knows how these vampires operate."

"No. Hell no! My friends' lives are not being put in the hands of that blonde bimbo."

"She's smarter than she looks, you know. At least she is when you give her some responsibility. Plus, she has a healthy sense of self-preservation."

"If any of my friends get so much as a scratch because of her - "

"Precisely, Deb. She fears you." Debbie smiles. Slayers love hearing that vampires fear them. "And she knows better than to incur your wrath by endangering your friends. The girl's got enough to worry about, moonlighting on Angel and all."

"Harmony?," Angel asks as she yawns. "Late night?"

"No. Just, couldn't sleep. This whole non-nocturnal thing sometimes gets to me."

"Just type up the dictation on these cassettes and have them on my desk by five."

"No problem. Boss." She starts tapping away at her computer. It was tough working for two demanding bosses.

While the spectators at this high school basketball game buy snacks in the lobby during halftime, Elektra looks for a snack of her own. Before the game started, she spotted the Slayers entering with a black man whom everyone greeted as Principal Wood. He didn't look like a Watcher. He also seemed too young to be a principal. For a few minutes, she amusingly imagines that he's the black Slayer's older boyfriend. They came out of the gym to keep an eye on the crowd and try to spot any vampires. Elektra feels a sharp thrill as she waits to be uncovered. But there are hundreds of people, making it hard to pick out one vampire unless they clearly stick out. Elektra's dressed rather conservatively by her standards. Luckily, belly shirts and navel piercings are considered mainstream, and she's ditched the leather pants for jeans. Meanwhile, the hunted vampire still plays the hunter. She flirts, though less conspicuously than usual. After a few minutes, the Slayers tire of this needle-in-a-haystack search, and begin talking to a few boys. Elektra realizes that vampires and Slayers can be a lot alike. But soon she also gets bored. Elektra stands twenty feet away from them, begging to get noticed. Her eyes meet Vi's. Nothing. Oh well. She walks up to Robin. "Hi Principal Wood," she says with a smile. He doesn't recognize the student. Then again, there are two thousand at this school, and it's hard to stand out.

But Elektra is willing to try. Late in the fourth quarter, she sneaks into the home team's locker room, takes off her clothes and lies in wait. She watches the sweaty young men undress, working up a bigger appetite than she'll be able to fill. Finally, a strapping, six-foot-three-inch white boy puts on his street clothes and walks towards the wash room area in back to comb his hair in front of the mirror. "Too bad you lost," Elektra says. He turns to his left and is stunned to see a beautiful young woman standing in front of him, completely naked. He struggles to vocalize words as she slowly walks towards him and he inches back towards the wall. "Don't be afraid. Do I look like I wanna hurt you?" She put right hand to his neck and feels his pulse as she stands two feet away. He hyperventilates while his heart rate, already high after a hard-fought game, climbs even higher. Elektra takes a step back to give him a full panoramic view of her in all her glory. He'd known of girls being a little aggressive, but this was off the charts. Heck, his teammates were still in the room.

"Okay, I lied. I am going to hurt you." Elektra goes bumpy, leaps at the poor boy and bites the left side of his neck while pinning his arms against the wall. He yelps and screams, and one of his players rushes back to see what the fuss is all about. Elektra hears him approach and turns around to see a six-foot-seven-inch skinny black guy. He sees a naked white chick with blood running down her deformed face, and his friend slumped on the ground behind her.

"Holy shit!"

"Nothing holy about it." She rushes him, leaps up and bites the right side of his neck while wrapping her arms around him.

"What the fuck!" He struggles, but can't pry the crazy naked white chick loose. "Help!!" Ten players, the coach, the assistant coach and the team manager all rush back. Elektra lets goes of her second victim, and he tumbles to the ground.

"I have company," she says with a smile. Elektra knew that humans find the vampire face hideous, so she flaunts her body, which is anything-but-hideous, to provide aesthetic contrast. To her, this was performance art: flesh that draws men to her, and the teeth that do them in.

"There's no girls in the locker room," an assistant finally says with the understatement of someone completely overwhelmed by what's before him.

"We need a doctor!," the head coach yells as he rushes towards the hallway outside. "We need a doctor in here!" Wood sees him. He had been casually to some parents about his and their high school basketball experiences. The moment he sees the coach's eyes, he knows what's happened. He's seen that look too many times.

"Rona! Vi! Get over here!!" They were standing outside about forty feet away waiting for the players come out so they can chat with them, maybe set up a date for later. Instantaneously they rush to the call. Wood enters the locker room. The moment the door swings open, Elektra disappears without a trace, snaking her way past several players without them even noticing. Two seconds later, Vi and Rona barge in at top speed, startling several half-dressed players. Vi manages a small smile, then follows Rona in the direction a couple shaken players are pointing. They zoom to the rear exit with shocking speed. The breeze they create actually ruffles the player's clothes. Meanwhile, Wood attends to the two victims. The white kid looks worse off, and Wood tries to comfort him.

"Just hang in there, Trent. You're gonna be all right."

As Rona checks the ceiling and any nooks and crannies where a vampire could hide, Vi rushes outside, where Elektra is waiting. The nude vampire turns around. "Is it short for Vivian, or Violet?," she asks from twenty feet away. Vi hesitates for a moment, then bashes the metal door with her left fist, creating a dent. Rona rushes to the noise. "You're staring," Elektra notes with a big smile. "Either you're bi, and I'm flattered, or you're afraid to lose me, and I'm flattered."

"Vi, what's up?," Rona asks as she rushes out. "Oh my God."

"What's the matter, Rona? You've never seen a naked vampire before?"

"Actually, no." Vi shakes her head in agreement.

"That's one thing you and Buffy don't have in common." Leks licks the blood from her lips. It had been a good snack — three pints from her first victim, two from her second — and she was going to need the fuel. Lex walks towards the Slayers, who take out their stakes and expect an easy killing. She returns to her human face. "The name of the game is tag. You're it." The Slayers slowly approach her, Vi to her left and Rona to her right. "What are you afraid of? Clearly, I've got nothing to hide." When the Slayers are within six feet, Elektra takes off with an incredibly burst of speed, quite literally streaking through the parking lot. Rona and Vi give chase as the awestruck fans filing towards their cars watch these women zip by at incredible speed. Elektra heads west, through a park that contains the high school's playing fields, over the fences surrounding the football field, then under an elevated section of I-71. She's heading towards the Hellmouth. The Slayers fear an ambush and increase speed to try and catch the vampire before she gets to her friends. Elektra slows down slightly, allowing the Slayers to inch closer. Vi gets within a step. Then she slows down, and Rona gets so close she can almost grab Elektra's flowing hair. At that moment, Elektra turns on the jets and starts to pull away. When she's put a good fifty yards between her and the Slayers, she turns north, heading away from the Hellmouth. Rona and Vi stop to catch their breath.

"It was the clothes," Vi jokes. "They held us back."

"Do what you want, but I ain't slaying naked," Rona jokes back. They're both making light of the situation to conceal their disappointment. No vampire's ever outrun them.

"What the hell was that?," the head coach asks Principal Wood, who stands outside with the coaches and players as the two injured students are loaded into ambulances.

"A crazed student, probably on drugs. We'll make sure she gets the help she needs."

"Did you see her face?," the assistant coach asks.

"She had a face?," one of the players responds, speaking for most of them, who were staring at other parts of Elektra's anatomy. The ambulances drive off, and Wood takes out his phone to call Rona.

"Hey Robin. She got away. Hey, can you come pick us up? You're going to the hospital? No, we'll meet you there."

"Wait a minute."

"What is it?," Rona asks Vi.

"That way's north."

"Uh-huh."

"The naked vampire headed north."

"So?"

"What's north of the Hellmouth?"

"Downtown."

"Exactly."

Rona laughs. "At least she won't go unnoticed."

Elektra races down the streets at upwards of forty miles-an-hour, outrunning cars and shocking the few pedestrians. She enters her hotel, dashes to the stairs and whirls her way up to the twelfth floor, where she runs into the hallway and finally stops at her room. All the time, she held her key card in her left hand. A man four doors down spots the naked teenager. "I got locked out," she says with an innocent smile, as if this were one of those commercials. Once she gets into her room, Elektra starts jumping up-and-down and woo-hooing. Sneaking in the locker room, shocking those boys, and outrunning those Slayers was such a rush.

"They'll be okay," Wood reports when Rona and Vi arrive at the hospital.

"I'm sorry we let her go," Vi offers.

"She can run but she can't hide. You'll find her." He can tell that these Slayers, so accustomed to success, take even the smallest failure hard. "I found her clothes in the shower. They look new. Her jacket's Prada."

"So?," Vi asks.

"What kind of vampire throws away expensive threads?"

"What kind of vampire owns expensive threads?," Vi inquires.

"Certainly not any I've met," Rona replies with contempt for the vamps they've known.

"Just so you know, Trent and Rondell are in stable condition." The Slayers look shocked.

"Can we see them?," Vi asks.

"I guess. But they won't tell you anything you don't already know."

"By the way, what'd you tell the paramedics?," Rona wonders.

"They slipped in the shower."

"And cut themselves on what, exactly?"

"Fortunately, no one's asked." The Slayers walk away.

"Trent," Vi says, looking bummed. "I like Trent. I was going to ask him out."

"And I was gonna ask out Rondell." They pause.

"Why couldn't I get the chance to save him?" Now that would have scored Vi some major points.

"I feel like I've let him down," Rona adds. Then something unsettling occurs to Vi. Out of twelve players, she picks these two.

"It's weird how this vampire and us have the same taste in men. No pun intended." They both shudder.

"Worse than weird. Downright creepy." It is a most disturbing coincidence. They enter the room where the boys are lying on beds, Trent to their left and Rondell to their right. They each move towards their chosen boy.

"Hey Vi," Trent says in a weak voice. (He remembered her name!) "What are you doing here?"

"I heard from Robin that you were hurt, and I wanted to see if you were okay."

"I know you think we'll think you're crazy. But we won't," Rona assures Rondell. "We know that weird stuff goes on around here."

"It's embarrassing," Rondell replies, speaking for Trent as well. "This girl just overpowered me. She was so strong. I couldn't fight her off. Guess that makes me a real wimp, getting beat up by a girl."

"Some girls are stronger that others," Rona answers with a smirk. Vi looks at her and also smiles.

"It's not your fault," she tells Trent, revelling in the gender role reversal. "There was nothing you could do. Just tell me what you remember, so we can track her down and make sure she doesn't do this sorta thing again."

"Her face changed. She had these big teeth. Then she bit me, and I felt this cold sensation."

"From the blood loss."

"Yeah. I guess. Am I crazy?"

"No. Everyone saw what you saw, and none of you are crazy. Weird things happen."

"I know. But not like this."

"What the hell do I tell my mom?," Rondell wonders. "I got bit by a dog?" He chuckles. "My mom worked so hard to move out of the ghetto, get me in a nicer neighborhood where I'd be safe."

"No one's ever completely safe," Rona replies in an ominous moment of candor. "But Principal Wood and the cops are gonna catch her. Don't worry about that. Just get well." She puts her right hand on his chest. He grabs it and smiles. Vi takes Trent's left hand in her left hand.

"You did play a good game," she jokes.

"Thanks. Look, this might not be the right moment, but ya wanna do something sometime?"

"I'd love to. Here's my number. Call anytime." Rona gives Rondell her number.

"Aren't we shameless," Rona says in the hallway.

"Why? Because we're hitting on the vics?"

"They are vulnerable right now."

"Rona, we would've hit on them if they weren't attacked. It's not like we're taking advantage of the situation."

"I suppose. Damn, I can't believe we let her get away."

"You didn't let her get away," Wood remarks. "She had a head start."

"Actually - ," Vi begins before electing not to mention how Elektra toyed with them.

"She was heading towards downtown," Rona reports.

"Good. No, wait, bad. There's plenty of possible victims around there on a Saturday night. But the police should have gotten a few sightings by now. It's not every day a naked girl runs through the streets." He pauses. "I suppose that could be the headline tomorrow," he jokes before calling the cops and working his contacts.

Devlin stands at the J Street Pier in Chula Vista, at the south end of San Diego harbor, at 10:50 Thursday night. "There she is. The Excalibur, also known as The Castle."

"Wonder why," Theo replies sarcastically. The two hundred by one hundred foot barge has four towers at the corners and crenellated parapets running along the sides.

"Built thirty years ago from four surplus navy landing craft as a party barge. Went out of business more than twenty years ago. Last legitimately used to store furniture."

"We don't need a history lesson," Cynthia tells Devlin.

"I like to provide context. I think it's helpful to know why there's a giant castle in the water, and how vampires got to use it."

"How do we break in?," Danielle asks.

"You won't have to." He looks at Harmony.

"They don't just live there," she explains. "They throw parties for vampire groupies who like to get bit."

"That's why there haven't been any bodies," Devlin points out.

"Who the fuck would want to get bit?," Cynthia asks.

"You're about to find out. But lose the outrage. You're going to be playing a vampire lover."

"Like hell I am! No offense," she says to her vampire-loving friends.

"We don't love them in general," Diego offers in his defense.

"Can you hurry up?," Harmony requests. "They'll be sending the boat any minute." Luiz, Paul and Sidney wish their human mates luck. The humans are understandably reluctant to leave them.

"You're sending us in there alone?," Theo asks.

"No. We'll have Deb," Cynthia assures him. But her best friend doesn't look so sure. "What!?"

"I'm the Slayer. They'd recognize me. Cynth, you're only gonna be alone for a few minutes."

"Fifteen actually," Dev reports. The humans are horrified.

"You'll be fine," Harmony, who they don't trust, tries to assure them. "I've come here the last two nights, and they spend a really long time seducing the humans they like."

"Seducing? You didn't say anything about THAT!," Sidney says to Dev.

"You'll be jealous?," Diego asks with a smile. "Even if nothing happened?" So much for her casual assertions that their relationship meant nothing emotionally to her.

"Time to go," Devlin asserts. "Stay alive, and stand near the exits so you can let us in." The humans still look petrified. Debbie walks over to her friends.

"I thought it was insane, too. But Dev's had other insane plans, and they've always worked. I trust him. And so should you."

"You're not the one going in there all helpless," Danielle notes.

"Dev would never let anything happen to you."

"Why not?," Melanie asks. "You're the one he cares about."

"And if I lose one of you, he loses me. Dev knows that." There's a long pause.

"Fifteen minutes?," Diego asks.

"And then we storm the castle." There's another long pause. "There's no other way we can get you in. And I don't know if the five of us can do it alone."

"What the hell," Theo responds. "What's the worst that can happen? Oh. Right."

"I'm in," Cynthia declares. Debbie smiles at her best friend and gives her a hug before running off with the vampires.

"It's real simple," Harmony tells the humans. "Just pretend you find vampires sexy. Most of you don't even have to pretend." Danielle, Melanie and Diego get angry.

"Don't take offense," Cynthia suggests. "She's just jealous. Isn't that why you're here?" Harmony feels genuinely wounded. Normally, she'd want to attack and probably kill Cynthia for such a slight. Alas, she can't, because Cynthia is right, and Harmony doesn't want to lose access to Devlin and the exciting little world he's created.

Giles is awoken at 3:30 Sunday morning by the phone. He picks it up and puts it to his left ear. "Hello. No, Robin. It's okay. So long as this is important. Oh my. That would be important. Naked? My goodness."

"I know we are but you don't have to tell him," Gretchen whispers in Rupert's right ear. He turns on the lamp to the left of the bed and sits up. She can tell it's something serious.

"Now what did she look like?. Interesting. That sounds a lot like the vampire who created trouble for us in Denver. A name? I can't remember at the moment."

"Elektra," Gretchen whispers.

"Actually, let me put you on with Gretchen." She's a little embarrassed.

"Oh. Hi Robin. The girl's name is Elektra. Her human name was Alexa Adler. She's from New York. About a quarter century old. Tall. Long brown hair. Your classic underage femme fatale with a few tricks up her sleeve. Naked? She is provocative, and very good at making a clean getaway. She knew their names? Well, they've probably become pretty famous. Or infamous, if you're a demon. You think you've tracked her down? Good. But be careful. She uses weapons. Knives. Maybe also razor blades. We're not sure. Play it safe. Try a crossbow first." She hands the phone back to Rupert.

"Tell Rona and Vi good luck. And godspeed." He hangs up.

"Why didn't you tell him to call me on my cell phone so I could pretend I was at home?"

"It didn't occur to me. Are you ashamed of our relationship?"

"No! God no. I just don't know how much I want to publicize it. People might start thinking my meteoric rise in your organization wasn't because of my professional talents."

"Gretchen, everyone in my organization is already aware of your talents."

"Not all of them, I hope," Devlin's kid sister replies with a naughty smirk.

"You talked to Giles AND Gretchen?," Vi asks.

"I guess they were working late."

"On a Saturday night?" The two Slayers giggle.

"I thought he had a thing for her," Rona says to Vi.

"Wait a minute. You think they're dating?" Robin, who hasn't been to Rome in three months, thought Gretchen had a thing for him. He was flattered, but thought she was too old. Devlin's younger sister is ten years his senior.

"Enough gossip," Vi declares. "Time to kick ass."

"Time to politely ask questions," Robin corrects her. They step out of the car and are greeted by a police officer.

"We got reports of a streaker in the lobby of the Renaissance Hotel," he explains.

"Anyone provide a description?," Robin asks.

"Just that it's a woman. And that she was moving too fast for them to notice anything else. The Slayers nod. The four of them enter. The cop flashes his badge and requests the hotel manager. Wood starts asking questions. The manager assumes he's a plainclothes officer.

"In the past few days, has a tall teenage girl checked in here by herself?"

"Is there a criminal in our hotel?," he asks with concern.

"Just someone we want to question," the cop says.

"I can check our security videos. But that will take time."

"Someone with the name of Elektra?," Wood asks. "Or Alexa," he recalls. "Possibly Alexa Adler. She could have used a pseudonym." The manager goes to the computer.

"Alexa Adler. Checked in last night at 9:57 P.M. Paid for three nights up front. In cash."

"You didn't think that was unusual?"

"I wasn't the one who checked her in."

"What's the room number?"

"1208." He gets out a master key card and takes them up. Strangely, the uniformed officer doesn't come along, but two teenage girls with back packs do. When they get to the door, Robin talks the manager into giving them the card and waiting by the elevator. Rona and Vi open their bags, take out crossbows and load them. They each put a stake in their right pocket. Robin puts the key in, and opens the door. Elektra has the tv on with the volume up, and she's glancing out the window at the city below. She turns and sees the Slayers, who immediately fire. Elektra leaps to her left and falls down behind her bed. The arrows bounce off the window, leaving tiny dents in the glass. The Slayers rush over and trap her. Elektra reaches her right arm up, grabs her purse from off the bed and swings it up at Rona's chin, knocking her back. The vampire stands up, spins round and nails Vi in the right side of her head with the purse. "Hi Principal Wood," Elektra says, repeating what she told him a few hours ago when he had no idea who she was. This is the first time he's seen Elektra since then, and he instantly regrets not identifying her as a vampire before she had a chance to hurt Trent and Rondell. As the Slayers recover their balance, Elektra swings her purse for the window, shattering it and leaping out. Rona tries to grab her. Vi rushes to the window and tries to stake her just as she jumps. Rona grabs Vi to keep her from falling out.

"Wooooooo!!!!," Elektra screams as she plummets to earth, landing on the roof of an Escalade, shattering the windows. She winces from the impact and leaps across the street, racing to safety as the Slayers and their Watcher watch helplessly. The manager, who heard the noise, bursts in.

"What happened!!?," he asks about the open window and the strewn pieces of glass.

"What does it look like happened?," Vi asks. "She jumped."

"Oh my God." He walks over to the window. "Who are you?," he asks the girls, turning around to find them gone.

"Sorry about the window," Wood tells the manager. "On the plus side, if she stayed the night, there's a chance she would've killed some of your guests." He exits, leaving the man appalled and dumbfounded. He looks out the window again and sees the smashed car.

"Hey. Where's the body?"


	44. Harmony the Vampire Slayer

- "How is getting bit by a vampire sexier than having sex with one?,"

- Life was tough. Becoming superhuman hadn't changed that.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buffy and Giles discuss what to do about Elektra. Jeta wows Spike and tries to put the moves on Dru. Deb and Dev and friends get in their biggest brawl yet, and Harmony shows what she can do when given responsibility.

"Completely naked?," Xander asks as he drinks coffee with Buffy, Giles and Gretchen on Sunday morning.

"Not a stitch," Gretchen replies. "Can you imagine?" Xander looks intrigued. Buffy looks worried.

"Absolutely not," Xander falsely answers.

"So nothing like that ever happened in Sunnydale?"

"I once found a body stashed in the girls' locker room," Buffy replies. "But never any attacks."

"And then the Slayers chase her halfway across the city," Xander adds. "While she's still naked. It's amazing nobody caught this on videotape." Buffy rolls her eyes.

"Clearly this vampire is bold, yet crafty," Giles concludes.

"And getting bolder," Gretchen notes. "She's actively sought out our Slayers in three different locations, and never really fought any of them. Vampires either fight or avoid. She does neither."

"She could be a thrill seeker," Xander guesses.

"Or she's advertising," Buffy theorizes. "Taking on two Slayers in their own backyard is a great way to get noticed."

"Which clearly this vampire wants," Gretchen concurs.

"Hence the nudity," Xander adds.

"So she gets minions, attacks in force, and Rona and Vi cut them down," Buffy predicts.

"I think there's more to it than that," Giles cautions. "She's been criss-crossing the country. Either this vampire likes to travel, or she's recruiting."

"You mean the vampire all-star team you've been fearing?," Gretchen infers.

"Perhaps we should put two more girls in Cleveland, just to be safe."

"Most of our reserve is currently out of commission," Buffy reminds him, referring to the dozen Slayers Elektra's brother gleefully maimed. "And Rona and Vi have already taken care of most of the vampires in Cleveland. I'm sure they can handle this final handful, even if they are getting help from the Ultra-Slut-Bomb-of-all-Time."

Speaking of Elektra, The Slayers' surprise hotel room visit had left her temporarily homeless and extremely angry. This girl was not used to roughing it. Plus, the attack had cost her plenty of nice new clothes and jewelry. She was not taking this setback lightly. The doggedness of her new enemies unnerved her. Elektra begins to panic. She fears that if she goes to another hotel, they'll find her there and burst in during the daytime, while she's sleeping and defenseless. Giving in to her fear, Elektra leaves town in her car and drives thirty miles south to Devlin's home town of Akron. But before fleeing, she kills and disembowels a homeless man, spreading his guts along the sidewalk as a taunt to the Slayers, and a reminder that she would be back.

Diego, Melanie and Danielle huddle in a corner of the ballroom on the upper level of the Excalibur. The lower level contains rooms where the vampires and their willing victims can enjoy more privacy. The ballroom is draped with dark velvet. The vampires and humans wear mostly black, with some purple and red. Bauhaus plays on the loudspeakers. "What an demeaning stereotype," Diego says to the women. "If I were one of these vampires, I'd be insulted."

"Give the people what they want," Melanie jokes.

"In this case, what they want is to be seduced and bitten," Danielle adds.

"How is getting bit by a vampire sexier than having sex with one?," Diego asks. "Granted, I haven't done both. But I can't imagine how sucking can be better than fucking."

"For which one?," Danielle wonders. "The vampire or the person?" This causes all of them to worry about their vampire lovers' desires. Harmony runs over.

"Come on people. Mingle! Remember why you're here." She grabs Mel and Danielle and drags them out onto the floor. Diego, left alone, starts whistling and looks at the floor, until he sees someone's black boots and looks up. It's a very tall blonde woman wearing a black miniskirt and a black corset, with heavy mascara, dark eyeshadow and bright red lips.

"Hello there, handsome," she says with a smile.

"Oh. Hi."

"Is this your first time?"

"Sort of," he replies with a nervous smirk.

"Are you afraid?"

"Of course. That's where the rush comes from," he replies with a smile. She thinks he's referring to risking his life by getting bit, but he's really referring to risking his life by trying to slay her. They're both predators seducing their prey, but only Diego recognizes this delicious reciprocity.

"How bout we go somewhere where I can get to know you better?" He doesn't want to leave the ballroom, but he has to seem eager to get bitten.

"Sure. But first, can I meet some of your friends?" She chivalrously takes his right arm with her left and walks him over to meet the gang.

"What is it with Diego and blondes?," Danielle asks.

"What is it with Diego and blonde vampires?," Melanie wonders.

"Whatever it is, I'm not feeling it," Harmony replies. "Ooh! There's Ramon. Yoohoo. Over here!" She waves. He walks over. Ramon is tall and thin, with long, slicked-back black hair, black pants, black button-down shirt, and a black cape with a red inner lining. Mel and Danielle try to keep from laughing.

"Evening ladies," he says, kissing Melanie's hand. She giggles.

"Do you just act this way for the tourists?," she asks.

"The cape's a bit much," Danielle opines. "I mean, you'd look really cool even without it," she adds nervously, remembering to stay in character.

"So where are your fangs?," Melanie queries, also trying to sound like an eager neophyte. Harmony walks off to mingle. Two more male vampires converge around Mel and Danielle. Diego's new friend is getting very cozy with him, pressing the boy against the wall, running her fingers through his hair and discreetly glancing down at his neck. Harmony's work is done. She walks over to a female vampire.

"So. Whadya think?"

"Yummy. Much yummier than most of what we attract," she replies, gesturing to the three dozen other humans.

"Maybe you could lose the whole goth thing," Harm suggests. "Go with something a little more current."

"I've tried to tell that to Ramon. I'm old enough to remember when this WAS current. But he insists it's a niche market, and we have to exploit that niche. He's kinda gotta point. I mean, how many Avril Lavigne and Justin Timberlake fans could you draw to a place like this?"

"You should make it like the Bronze. That was my old place back in Sunnydale. I always thought that would make the coolest vampire hangout. You know, without the Slayer."

"And the demon-killing vampire traitors," she adds, making Harmony nervous. "Sorry. Didn't mean to bring up your old boyfriend."

"You know about me and Spike?"

"Girlfriend, everybody knows about you and Spike."

"Do they know that I broke up with him? Both times? And that when he came on to me at the office, I rejected him?"

Theo and Cynthia walk around the room, taking in the scene and trying to look cool. "I should have worn more black," he whispers.

"And then I could have died my hair." He looks his girlfriend over. He appears to like the idea.

"And dress yourself all in leather."

"Stop it."

"Maybe carry a whip."

"Theo. I had no idea."

"Just for the look. Not for use." A male and female vampire approach the new arrivals.

"We do couples," the woman says with the polite smile of a saleswoman.

"Actually umm, we're umm, what I'm trying to say is, I'd like you alone," Theo tells her. "And my girl here would like him alone." Cynthia's a little upset her guy could get into character so easily, but joins in lest she blow their cover and get them killed.

"It's more intimate and special that way," she tells the guy with a smile. He stares at her as if his gaze has power, which it doesn't, so she finds it funny. Devlin's got many shortcomings in Cynthia's eyes, but at least he doesn't put on airs and try to act all Anne Rice. The vampires she knows act like, well, people.

"We're swingers," Theo continues.

"Not that we have an open relationship - "

"But biting isn't cheating, now is it?" The four of them laugh.

Spike and Jeta lie on the floor of a Madrid apartment, amidst the corpses of two men, two women and three children, as well as their still-living translator who, after witnessing the deaths of his fellow Germans on top of all the other atrocities his captors have committed, is on the verge of suicide. "I don't care what anybody else says. I like German food," Spike jokes in English. Dieter winces as he renders it into Deutsche for Jeta's enjoyment. She puts her left hand to Spike's face and stares deeply into his eyes. Her gaze does have power.

"This time with you is the first time I've been happy in a very long time."

"Well of course it is. You're with me, babe." She plays with his hair.

"You should change the color back before seeing her."

"Looks like that'll be a while. I say we hit Barcelona next."

"She's in Naples."

"How the bloody hell do you know?"

"I just do."

"Right. That Gypsy mojo." Dieter struggles to find a proper German translation of "mojo."

"If I am right, can I stay with you two?" Spike thinks about this and smiles.

"If Dru goes for it."

"She will. I am very good at getting what I want."

"I've noticed." Spike rolls on top of Jeta and they kiss. Suddenly, she throws him to the side, leaps up and grabs Dieter, who tried to leave while the vampires were distracted.

"Bad Dieter. I'll have to tie you up again. And this time it will hurt." She hog ties the hapless Nazi, who Spike's almost starting to feel sorry for. She walks up to Spike, squeezes his wrists, and growls. "Kill. Feed. Destroy."

"Learning the essentials of the King's English, I see." She uses her fangs to make two pricks in Spike's right wrist and slowly licks and sucks the blood. She looks at him with her yellow eyes and her vampire face.

"More. Now."

"Yes. Please," he replies with a smirk and a chuckle. They walk out of the flat, leaving Dieter trapped on the floor amidst the corpses.

Devlin drives a stolen, hotwired boat towards The Castle with Debbie, Sidney, Paul and Luiz aboard. "Hurry up," Paul nervously requests.

"If anything happens to Danielle - " Luiz adds before being interrupted by Devlin.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. You'll lynch me. Chill out, Lou. These vampires aren't even killing."

"Like us?," Sidney asks mischievously.

"No. They feed. And they'll kill once the heat's off."

"What if they find out Diego's a spy?," Sidney asks.

"Then it's his own damn fault he's dead, and you can't blame me," Dev replies coldy. He swings around to approach the Castle from the west, not the mainland, since they'd be less prepared for an attack from this side. Five boats are docked on the east side, including the one that brought over Harmony and their friends. Once they get next to the barge, the four vampires scale the forty five foot-high wall. Debbie, who lacks their gripping ability, hangs onto Devlin's back. When they reach the parapet, the five of them leap down fifteen feet onto the deck. Sid, Paul and Luiz open the weapons bags they carried up and take out the portable arsenal.

"All we have to do now is get in," Debbie points out. They look around in vain for easy access to below deck. Then a trap door opens sixty feet behind them. The vampires turn to face the noise and sees Harmony's head. She smiles and waves. They rush over as Harmony savors being part of the gang.

"It's going great," she whispers. "The vampires are totally buying that your friends want to get bit." Sid, Luiz and Paul don't look pleased. "Hurry up! Before we get caught and they, you know, kill everyone."

"You do wonders for morale," Deb sarcastically tells Harm, who hears a vampire approaching from behind.

"Harmony, what are you doing?"

"Umm. Ugh. I think I see bad people approaching. Come up and take a look." As the vampire does this, she kicks her in the face, knocking the vampire down. "Too late." Debbie jumps down and is grabbed by the vampire.

"Slayer!"

"I have a name, you know," Deb jokes, head-butting the vampire, throwing her down and staking her. A male vampire rushes to the noise and sees the Slayer with her vampire helpers.

"Fuck!" He runs away. Debbie hurls her stake and dusts him.

"That's right. You're fucked." Dev smiles at his girlfriend. She smiles back.

"Charge!," Sidney yells, running to her boyfriend's rescue along with Luiz and Paul. Deb and Dev follow, with Harmony urging all of them to calm down.

"Stop! You don't know the way."

"I'm following the noise, Harm," Sidney responds.

"The tunnels are kind of, you know, mazey."

"Labyrinthine?," Devlin asks.

"God, you are a geek." Harmony guides them on the shortest path to the ballroom. Sidney and Paul kick open an exit. The six of them burst in laden with weapons, the five vampire all nice and bumpy. Everyone turns to see who's crashing the party. The vampires look very angry. The humans look very afraid. They assume these new arrivals want to kill them. Many of the guests, including Danielle and Melanie, were waltzing with vampires. Diego is pinned along the wall, a tall female vampire kissing his neck.

"Diego!?," Sidney screams, rushing over to her apparently cheating boyfriend. Paul and Luiz stare at their girlfriends, who are in the arms of other vampires.

"We weren't having fun," Melanie assures Paul. The men sprint to the vampires who were macking in their women. These vampires respond by trying to bite the women. The leader spots Harmony, and marches towards her.

"You lying cunt!," he yells about her betrayal.

"At least I'm not a pathetic Dracula wanna-be," she responds. He puts up his fists, and she replies in kind. "That's right. Bring it on!"

The vampires talking to Theo and Cynthia don't suspect they're part of the ruse and leave the two humans. When the coast is clear, they run towards Debbie.

Devlin sees the four remaining vampires surrounding him and Deb. He calmy slaps his forehead with his right hand and winces. "This is a fucking disaster." While he's distracted by his team's tactical priorities, a vampire punches his face.

"Dev. Dev!," Debbie shouts, fending off two vampires.

"Say it," he requests blandly while pushing back the vampire who struck him.

"You can be so immature sometimes," she replies in despair while leaping above her three opponents, kicking one of them, and getting kicked by another when she lands.

"Say it." Two vampires grab her arms.

"Okay. I need you!"

"If you insist." Cynthia and Theo, crossbows in hand, want to help their friend who's about to get killed.

"The doors. Go!," she orders, always seeing the big picture, just like Devlin.

Spike and Jeta took the train back to Cadiz. During the trip, Dieter continued to teach her English as quickly as possible. In exchange, she awarded him his freedom and dropped him off at his apartment. Dieter hung himself a few weeks later, unable to deal with the horrors he witnessed. Neither vampire realized the humor in their being able to kill a Nazi spy and member of the SS with an attack of conscience. Everyone has their limits, as Jeta was about to discover the hard way. The two of them snuck into Gibraltar and stowed away on a supply ship heading for Naples, just behind the American and British front lines. The city was bursting with newly-arrived soldiers eager for a good time and their weary comrades from the front desperate for a respite. But Jeta has her eyes on the young Italian women, as does Spike. The two of them stalk a young couple down a dusty street. Spike grabs and terrifies the girl, expecting Jeta to take the guy. Instead, she bites the girl from behind while staring at the helpless boyfriend's shocked face. As she drinks, Jeta runs her left hand up the girl's left leg, unnerving Spike. But then she puts her right hand on his crotch, and he decides that whatever gets her in the mood is fine with him. The drained girl's corpse falls to the ground, and the two vampires' bodies meet. They look at the boy with their bloody, deformed faces. He screams and runs, hysterically yelling something about killer demons.

Spike puts his right arm around Jeta's waist and pulls her close. They growl and snarl, then kiss. While their lips meet, their faces return to human appearance. Spike backs her into a wall and hikes up her long skirt. (Even as a sexy vampire seductress, Jeta's Gypsy modesty makes her balk at showing a lot of skin.) She wraps her legs around his waist and pulls down his pants. Spike starts to groan with delight. Jeta puts her left hand to her chin, then to Spike's right cheek, wiping the blood on, then licking it off. She moans and yells out some stuff in Romany that Spike can't understand but definitely appreciates.

Such behavior is bound to get noticed, and before long, they are met by a torch-wielding mob, which just turns Spike on even more. After killing a few attackers, the two of them flee this neighborhood for the anonymity and liveliness of the bustling old city. They walk cheek-to-cheek, Jeta leaning her body against his. Her right hand is under his coat and around his waist, while her left hand is against his stomach. Spike and her have so much in common. They fear no one, human or vampire, and act boldly without caring about repercussions. They are slaves to passion, and run on emotion. Jeta believes she can start a wonderful new life with this sexy beast. And his sire. Spike finally remembers why he's in Naples, and begins his search. Jeta can sense any vampire within about a kilometer with her magical "vamp-dar," and they ruthlessly interrogate three vampires they find, to no avail. But Spike can feel his sire if she's nearby, and shortly before sunrise he spots Drusilla wondering along one of the harbor fort's old bastions, looking out forlornly at the sea with a daisy in her hand. He watches her for a little while from a hundred yards away and smiles.

"You are bloody amazing," he says to Jeta, who somehow knew where in all of Europe to find a woman she'd never even met. Jeta doesn't quite understand all his words, but gets that it's a compliment. She smiles and waits for Dru to turn around and face them so she can get a better look at the new woman in her life.

"Moi baby's returned," Dru says, turning round and seeing Spike two hundred feet away. He runs to her as she jumps up and down and screams with joy. They embrace and kiss and laugh.

"Not even the bloody Third Reich could keep me from you, doves."

"The sparrow awlways finds his nest." Entranced by the bird metaphor, Jeta starts whistling like a bird, and Dru looks over Spike's shoulder.

"Love, this is Yetta. She helped me find my way back to you. Girl's young, but she's got plenty of talent." Dru pushes Spike to the side as Jeta slowly approaches. They stare silently into each other's eyes and stand nose-to-nose for what to Jeta feels like an eternity. Dru smiles. Her eyes light up.

"Yes, my William. You've caught something very special. This girl has the gift. I can feel it awl around her." She puts her left hand over Jeta's skull, about half an inch above her hair. "Your moind's bursting with fresh little candies, ready to eat. And wot's this? A spark." Spike's delighted that the girls are getting on well. They seem so compatible. Two dark beauties of identical height and similar talents. Both with unorthodox but effective ways of communicating. Jeta also senses the connection. She leans in closer, tilts her head to the left, puckers her lips, puts her right hand behind Dru's head, pulls her close and kisses her. As Jeta closes her eyes, savoring the feel of Drusilla's lips, Dru's eyes bug out. Jeta puts her left hand around Dru's waist and pulls her tight so their midsections are touching. Drusilla struggles to break free, finally pushing Jeta away after after six terrifying seconds. She starts jumping up and down, shaking her hands and moaning with displeasure. Spike walks over to hug and comfort his shaken sire.

Rather than feel embarrassed, Jeta is furious. There's only one thing to do with vampires who resist her considerable charms. Jeta goes bumpy and charges Dru, who pushes Spike away, grabs her attacker and hurls her over her shoulder down to the water more than one hundred feet below. Yeta crashes into the sea and learns a lesson about taking on much stronger vampires. Dru looks at Spike, worried about his connection to this girl.

"Don't ruffle your feathers, pet. She meant nothing." They kiss and walk back to Dru's place arm-in-arm. He tells her about his harrowing voyage and escape (minus the part with Angel), and she tells him about all the wonderful American G.I.'s she's been eating. Dru loves Americans. They're as well-fed as they are naive and trusting.

Jeta, who does not know how to swim, flails wildly and struggles to grab hold of a fishing boat, which she climbs onto before jumping to shore. She's lost the one male vampire she ever cared about, was rejected by the sexiest, most mystically powerful female vampire she's ever met, and on top of everything else, she's soaking wet and smells like fish. As she waddles back to town, heartbroken and lonely, Jeta sees the sun creep up over the horizon. Life was tough. Becoming superhuman hadn't changed that.

As the vampire leans in to bite Debbie's neck, Dev leaps over Deb's left shoulder, throws his legs forward, reaches back to grab the vampire's head, and drags the vampire down to the ground with him so they're sitting back-to-back. "Take down. Two points," the former high school wrestler announces. Keeping his left arm under the vamps neck, Dev gets to his feet, spins around and uses the headlock to snap the vampire's neck. "No reversal. You always gotta have a reversal." Debbie sweeps the legs of the vampire to her right and punches the vamp to her left with a right cross. Then she turns to face the fourth opponent. Meanwhile, the vampire she just knocked down gets up and tries to attack her from behind, but Dev stakes him. The vamp she tripped goes after Dev from behind, and he spins and hits this opponent with a right clothesline, sending him flipping through the air and landing on his face. "Am I this good, or are you this bad?," he asks the vampires. While revelling in his effortless butt-kicking, Dev notices a pile of weapons that his vampires jettisoned when they attacked in a jealous rage, leaving their human companions defenseless. But as he rushes to the weapons, the vampire he just clotheslined gets up and tries to attack Deb from behind. Dev turns and nails him in the chest with a right reverse kick, sending into one of the dozens of human onlookers. Both of them go down. Dev picks him up and drives his head through the wall. "Don't worry," he tells the startled human. "I'm one of the good guys." She isn't so sure. Dev grabs a stave, ax and sword and goes to Debbie's friends, deciding they need help more than she does.

Sidney's having an especially ferocious cat fight with the taller vampire who was hitting on Diego. Dev runs over and tosses Diego a wooden stave as he watches helplessly. "I've always wanted to have two women fight over me," Dev tells the guy. "Savor this moment." He pats Diego on the shoulder and goes to Melanie, who's watching her boyfriend and her erstwhile suitor pummel one another. He hands her an ax. "Enough hitting, Paul. Go for the kill already. She was only acting!" Dev leaves them, comes at Danielle from behind and puts his right arm around her shoulders, startling her. In his left hand is a sword. "When you tire of this spectacle, feel free," he tells her, putting the sword in her hands.

"What is it with you and Slayer-lovers?," Harmony's opponent asks her.

"At least I'm not a twenty dollar whore," she replies, punching him in the face.

"Now that's unfair," Devlin announces. "Ramon's at least a forty dollar whore."

"Traitors," Ramon growls, blocking Harmony's punches, pushing her down and showing more ferocity than his effete persona would indicate he possessed. "You're both traitors." When Harmony gets up, he belts her in the stomach with a straight right kick and in the face with a left hook kick.

"Perhaps," Dev concedes. "But in the morning, we'll still exist." Harmony lunges at Ramon and throws a fury of blows, a few of which she lands. The attack throws Ramon on the defensive as he puts his hands up and his head down. Devlin meows. "You're starting to turn on some of the men here," he tells Harmony. She kicks Ramon in the chin and walks over to Dev.

"Including you?"

"No comment," he slyly replies. Ramon steps up and hits the distracted Harmony in the face with a right cross. Harmony blocks a left hook and pops him in the nose with a left jab.

"I don't believe this!," Ramon announces with a chuckle. "Didn't you learn your lesson the first time?"

"I don't like Devlin." She hits his chin with a straight right kick. "Not in that way."

"Bullshit."

"He's a total dork." Ramon blocks her right hook and lands another right cross.

"A total dork you're working for." She ducks a right hook kick and sweeps his left leg.

"At least I don't give suck jobs to losers."

"That's right. You don't even bite."

"If I did, at least I'd have the guts to kill."

Sid and the tall blonde vamp roll around on the floor, toss each other into the wall, and even engage in a little hair pulling. "You shoulda sired him when you had the chance," Sid's opponent tells her, alarming Diego.

"Nah. I like warm bloods." Diego finds that a rather dehumanizing way to refer to him. Sid gets on top and lands several right hooks to her opponent's face. She manages to grab both of Sid's wrists, head butt her, throw her to the side and get up. Diego tries to stake her, but she blocks it and knocks him down with a left hook.

"Nobody hits my boyfriend!," Sidney announces, running over and throwing a right hook, which gets blocked. They lock arms, spin around, and Sidney gets tossed. The vampire turns towards Diego again. He throws his stave past her and towards Sidney.

"That was stupid," she says of his decision to jettison his only weapon. She pushes him against the wall and leans in to bite him.

"No," he replies, maintaining his composure thanks to months of close calls. "Getting staked in the back is stupid." She turns around just in time to grab the stave. Sidney kicks her twice in the stomach, knocking her opponent back. She ducks a right hook, uses the stave to sweep her opponent's legs and stakes her through the heart before she can put up her hands to defend herself.

"Tell me you weren't turned-on by that ho," she says to Diego after returning to her human face.

"Trust me. I was thinking of you the whole time."

"She reminded you of me!?"

"No. Of course not. What I meant was, I didn't want to die. So I blended. By being friendly."

She puts her left hand to his right eye. "Did she hurt you?," Sidney asks tenderly.

"That-a-way to make your guy feel emasculated," he jokes. She kisses him on the lips. "Well, if that's emasculation." He puts his arms around her and they kiss some more, forgetting the melee around them.

"Where have you been?," an annoyed Debbie asks Devlin while fending off two vampires.

"Helping those who needed it most. I'm surprised you haven't killed anyone so far." She knocks down the vampire to her right with a left roundhouse kick, but the other vampire grabs her from behind. She flips him over.

"Yeah, well, they have teamwork."

"So do we."

"I suppose," she shrugs. He stands to Deb's left. When the vampires attack, they each knock one back, then criss-cross to work on the other one. After landing a few more blows, they send the vampires' foreheads crashing together, and both of them fall down.

"I think you should have these kills," Dev says to Deb.

"I earned them," she replies, a bit peeved at his presumption of power.

"And it would be odd for the Slayer not to do any actual slaying." She hits one vampire with a left jab, right cross, right hook kick and left roundhouse kick, staking him as he staggers backwards. The other vampire attacks from behind. Debbie spins and tries to punch him, but he grabs her right arm and lands a right hook to her jaw. She ducks under a right kick and hits him with a backflip kick. Dev puts the vampire in a full nelson, and Debbie dusts him. She takes Dev's right hand in her left hand and leans her head against his left shoulder as they watch their friends and Harmony finish off the rest of the gang. Deb doesn't notice that Dev's still bumpy.

"Were we always this good?," she asks Dev.

"Nope. I think we just keep getting better and better."

"Until when?"

"Until we rule the world," he half-jokes.

"Nice ax," the vampire says to Melanie, lunging for the weapon. Paul grabs the vampire and pushes him away.

"Mel, help your friends. I can take care of myself."

"I thought you liked me taking care of you?" Paul's opponent laughs and hits him with a right hook.

"You're pathetic." He blocks Paul's right hook and lands left and right crosses. "Gettin' walked over by a girl." Paul lands a left jab, but his opponent ducks a right cross and puts him on his back with a right uppercut. Melanie, who's standing to Paul's right, swings her ax and beheads the vampire who didn't take her seriously.

"Better than getting killed by one," she taunts. Paul pulls her down and gets on top while she laughs. He pins her arms and goes back to his human face. "Just so you know who's on top when it counts," she reminds him.

"Gimme the sword," Luiz says to Danielle.

"No. I need it more."

"But I can use it better."

"Says who?" Luiz sighs and trades punches with his opponent.

"That's funny," he says to Luiz. "I don't see any marks on her arms." Luiz hits him in the stomach, but gets clubbed in the back and kneed in the face.

"He doesn't bite me!," an outraged Danielle declares. The vampire looks at Luiz, flashing a smile on his bruised and bloody face.

"You mean she neutered you?"

"That does it." Luiz charges in like a bull and drives the vampire back. His right hook gets blocked, but he lands a left hook. The vampire kicks Luiz in the stomach with his right foot. When Luiz tries a right cross, the vampire grabs his right arm and pushes him to the left. He heads right and leaps for Danielle. She screams, takes two steps back and swings the sword with both hands, taking off the vampire's head. Luiz, who had been racing back to save her, stops and savors the sight of his girl holding up her sword. "That's a good look for you."

"Wish I could say the same." Luiz feels insulted until he realizes she's talking about his vampire face.

"Is this cause I wouldn't sleep with you?," Ramon asks Harmony.

"As if! I would never sleep with you." She knocks him down with a leaping right kick to the chin and feels proud of her martial prowess. "You call yourself a vampire?" Ramon gets up and looks around, noticing that his friends are gone. He makes a dash for the nearest door, which Cynthia is blocking. Harmony tries to cut him off. Cynthia fires, but misses Ramon and hits Harmony in the right shoulder. Harmony pulls it out without missing a step and yells as she leaps for Ramon's legs and tackles him. "Say goodnight, scumbag." She rolls Ramon over and stakes him with the arrow, then stands up and smiles.

"This slaying thing's not so tough," Harm says to Debbie, who puts her right arm around Devlin's waist and glares at the vampire she thinks is after her man.

"The hard part is coming up with snappy catch phrases," Devlin quips. The gang comes together.

"Sorry," Cynthia says to Harmony.

"I know. You meant to hit me in the heart," Harmony replies.

"Touche," Cynthia concedes. Once the immediate thrill of victory wears off, they realize they are not alone. More than thirty people stare at them with confusion, fear and outrage.

"Party's over. Go home," Dev tells them.

"No," a man replies, walking over, folding his arms and standing pat along with several others. "We paid good money to be here."

"I don't believe this," Debbie says, shaking her head.

"Isn't that why you came and killed them?," another man asks. "To take over?"

"Take over what?," Debbie scoffs. "This dump?"

"Actually, it's pretty nice," Theo deadpans. Cynthia glares at him. "What? Just cause they're evil I can't admit they did a good job with the upkeep?" Sid, Paul and Luiz starting whispering and giggling.

"Willing victims," Sidney notes with a smile. "This is new." Along with Paul and Luiz, she starts eyeing the crowd for choice specimens.

"We don't like to be called victims," a man complains. Harmony smiles, walks up to him and goes bumpy, revelling in this unprecedented situation.

"I'll call you whatever I wanna call you, and you'll like it."

"Yes, dark mistress." Harmony savors being both adored and feared. Plus, she's looking to get over losing Alex. Meanwhile, Diego, Melanie and Danielle appear nervous.

"Don't worry," Debbie assures them. "It's a joke. They're just playing with ya. Right Dev?" He goes bumpy and wades into the crowd. She runs after him, grabs the back of Dev's shirt and pulls him around. "Very funny."

"No one's going to die. I don't see the harm. No pun intended."


	45. The Evening Becomes Elektra

"You love me despite your worst instincts, and I love you despite my best instincts."

"Slayers are built to die. We're built to live forever."

"They look afraid," Dev notes as he walks around the room, checking out the thirty-odd people who remain. "I don't understand. No, I do." He returns to his human face. Sid, Paul and Luiz quickly follow suit. Harmony goes along a few seconds later, not wanting to be the odd one out. "You came to be wooed. Your suitors would tell you to close your eyes' right before the big moment. That's how it went at the more genteel clubs I've come across. Used to date a girl who worked in one. I'm not pretty or exotic enough for this type of work. Which might also explain your obvious lack of enthusiasm for me. Sidney, I'm sure plenty of these guys would gladly give you their necks." She smiles appreciatively. "Luiz, you're getting a few looks. But Paul, alas, you're too waspish. Experience leads me to believe these women want someone exotic and dangerous-looking. Now Harmony. What man wouldn't gladly give you a meal?" She beams at the rare compliment thrown her way. "Okay, I see one guy raising his hand. But I bet he's gay. People, whichever one of us you may want, sorry. We'll have to pass. The boats that brought you here will bring ya back. Good night." A brave woman steps forward.

"We paid good money to come here." Devlin's eyes light up with dollar signs.

"And I'm glad Ramon collected up front." He starts guessing where they hid the money.

"Why the hell did you kill them if it wasn't to take their business?" If they didn't come to kill the people, this seemed the only logical explanation.

"Debbie the Vampire Slayer." He gestures in her direction. "Don't be shy, Deb. Step on up. Look at this magnificent woman. As powerful as she is beautiful, which if taken literally means she can probably put her fist through a steel I-beam. Her job title requires hostility to all vampires except those who pledge her complete and utter fealty. Which, I assure you, is a lot more fun than it sounds. I hope you enjoyed our brief, entertaining fight, because that's a wrap. You can't make us bite you, though it would be hilarious to watch you try. Sorry to force you to leave with all your blood still inside of your body. Let's see, seven boats, about five to a boat, Sid, Lou, Paul, Cynth, Theo, Mel, Danielle, you each take one. Bring 'em back empty." The people appear unwilling to be herded away. Diego and Theo exchange a few words and decide to pick up their weapons. Everyone else does the same, and this moves things along quite rapidly. "Strange," Devlin comments. "They're convinced we won't bite them, yet believe we might kill them." He walks over to Debbie. "You were fantastic."

"Couldn't have done it without you. Actually, I could've, but it would have been a lot less fun." She hugs him. "Your speech wasn't bad."

"I had to wing it," he jokes.

"You like those long-winded speeches."

"Sometimes I need an audience."

"You know, you were selling yourself short in the looks department."

"That's nice of you to say." He runs his fingers through her hair and looks down at Deb. They almost kiss. "Can't hold a candle to you, though. You make me wish I could paint. You deserve to be a work of art. By Titian, or Botticelli."

"Can someone hand me my money?," Harmony asks. They're the only three people left on the boat. "Or maybe a stake, so I don't have to hear this lover-dubby crap?" Devlin laughs and looks in her direction.

"It's back on land, in my car."

"I counted ten vampires tonight. Plus six last night. You owe me sixteen thousand dollars." Debbie gasps.

"You can't pay her that much. She did nothing!"

"I led you to the vampires! Oh yeah, and I also killed the leader."

"A deal's a deal. However, I wasn't expecting so many. I only have ten grand in my car."

"Ten thousand?," Debbie asks. "What if someone breaks in?"

"You are so whipped," Harm says to Dev.

"You've got me confused with my mother. She likes that sort of thing." Debbie's weirded out by her boyfriend referring to a vampire as his mother. Harmony doesn't like people bringing up Dru. "I don't have any other cash on me."

"How am I going to buy food tomorrow?," Debbie wonders.

"Use one of my credit cards. Harm, don't worry, I'll pay you the balance in diamonds."

"Excuse me?," she murmurs after a few seconds.

"You have diamonds?," Debbie asks.

"They're universally accepted. Extremely portable. Perfect if you're ever in a pinch. I hope that's acceptable, Harmony." She's too shocked to respond.

"You've never given me diamonds," Debbie points out.

"They're blood diamonds, Deb. Literally. People died to get these stones. And most of them weren't even killed by me. I know your conscience would object. But Harmony doesn't have a conscience."

"Do you mean jewelry? Rings? Maybe a nice necklace."

"Just the stones. Do with them what you want."

"We can kill her," Debbie notes, alarming Harmony. "We can make her accept a couple grand in exchange for, you know, not turning her to dust. That's enough for two night's work."

"Four night's work."

"It's not just about sixteen dead vampires," Dev says to Deb. "It's about advertising. Harmony, popular and gregarious as she is, will spread the word that we lavishly reward vampires who turn against their own kind. You will, right Harm?"

"For diamonds? I'll shout it from rooftops."

"Pretty soon, no vampire who feeds off humans will feel safe in Southern California."

"What will your precious girlfriend do then?," Harmony asks.

"I think I'll find ways to keep busy," Debbie responds, looking at Dev and smiling.

"There's a couple dozen rooms on this boat," Dev announces, putting his hands on her hips. Harmony pretends to gag herself. Slayer-vampire love is by far the most disgusting, unnatural kind of love in her book. Before Deb and Dev can flirt Harm to death, Cynthia and Theo return.

"Where are the others?," Debbie asks.

"Checking this place out," Cynthia responds.

"Is it really ours?," Theo asks.

"Legally no," Dev responds. "But for the time being, we do have the run of the place. Deb, can you get everyone back here? Before they start anything you wouldn't want to interrupt." She heads off. "Harmony, will you walk with me?"

"Where? We're on water."

"Just to the end of the room." He puts his right arm around her waist. "There's something I'd like you to do that will make you very popular within your company. It's complicated. But I believe you can make it work." That's what Harmony likes best about Devlin. He's always coming up with ideas that involve her.

"I can feel it," Nina says to Oz down in a cell in the dungeon.

"You're getting better each night. Last night, you held it off for three hours."

"You should go. I don't want to hurt you."

"I'll be okay. And so will you."

"It's happening."

"Relax."

"Easy for you to say, Captain Calm." He takes her hands. They're both sitting on the floor.

"Do what we practiced. I know how hard it can be at first. But stay with me, and we'll make it."

"Oz, I can't do this."

"Look at me. Do what I'm doing." She gets up and turns around.

"Maybe next month." Oz stands up.

"I, see, thing is, I don't know if I'll be here. But you can do it on your own. That's how I learned."

"You're leaving?"

"Or Angel could help."

"Of course." Nina looks at the wall. "What's happening to me?"

"Nothing. Good news." She turns around and looks down at him.

"I wasn't talking about that."

"Oh." Oz feels nervous standing so close to her, and walks to the other side of the cell. It wasn't his intention to get close to Angel's girl so he could steal her.

"Let's get back to the meditating."

"Sure. At least one of us should be calm," he jokes, clearly flustered by her comments. After all, she wouldn't be acting so nervous if she didn't feel something for him.

Harmony, Deb and Dev are back in Deb's house. "I can't believe I invited her in," Deb says to Dev.

"Excuse me, I'm standing right over here," Harmony notes with annoyance.

"Where are these diamonds?" He opens a drawer in the kitchen and pulls out a cigarette pack. Then he walks into the living room and empties dozens of stones onto the glass coffee table. Harmony nearly faints as they plop down in front of her. "Holy shit!," Deb exclaims. "Are these real!?"

"Hit 'em with a hammer if you want. But not on this table, of course."

"Remember when I threw you through the last coffee table?," Deb asks. They both smile. Harmony's too busy staring at all that ice to notice the grossness of their banter.

"You've got more bling than Nelly and P Diddy put together."

"Possibly. But most of these are rough stones. I'm sure all theirs are polished and extra sparkly." Harmony reaches down. Dev slaps her hand. "No touching." He leans down and picks up three medium-sized stones, placing them in Harmony's right hand. Her knees buckle slightly. "These are worth a lot more than six grand. You can go to a jeweler, sell him like half of each stone to pay for the other half to be cut into some nice jewelry. Or I can try to wire you six grand tomorrow, if you still want the cash."

"No. No. This is fine." She picks up and examines each stone.

"Then you'll be leaving," Debbie prompts.

"Guess all Slayers are rude." Harmony leaves, gets back in her car, opens her purse, looks at the ten thousand in cash and looks at the diamonds. Then she starts screaming for joy. She'd never seen such riches. And they were hers. All hers.

Sidney falls on top of Diego as he puts his arms around her and gasps happily for breath. "That was great," Sid tells her boyfriend. "Dev's right. Fucking's best after a kickass fight."

"Thanks. I, I guess. Did you want to bite those people?"

"Yeah. Important thing is I didn't."

"Why didn't you?"

"Cause Deb would've killed me."

"Not if they wanted to be bit. Not if you didn't kill them. Not if you took just a little from all those guys who wanted you."

"I wanted you more."

"To bite me?" Sidney laughs.

"I respect you. I don't respect the people I bite. Especially those who want it. What losers!"

"If I wasn't there, if my friends weren't there, so I would never find out, would you have done it?"

Sidney thinks about this and decides to be honest. After all, how upset can he get when she's lying naked on top of him? "If you'd never find out, of course I would bite them. But if there was a chance you would, then no. I wouldn't want to disappoint you. I know you believe I'm good. I'm not, but I like that you think it. I like that someone believes I really matter."

Devlin calmly puts the diamonds back in the empty cigarette pack one by one. "Where does a guy get his hands on so much bling?," Debbie asks.

"Namibia, Sierra Leone, Liberia, the Congo. There's a large market for vampires who can shoot straight."

"So you were a mercenary?"

"Something like that. But I did have my standards: I'd never work for Taylor or Sankoh or Mobutu. Ya know, the evil ones." Debbie laughs.

"You'd just kill for the lesser evil ones."

"I'm a killer by nature. Might as well get paid for it."

"Just what a girl likes to hear."

"Come on, Deb. Isn't this what you want — a relationship with no illusions?"

"I want to see all your sides. The good, the bad, the sick. Cause you've seen all of mine, and, well, you shouldn't hide things from those you love."

"You're in love with a guy who's killed thousands of people and doesn't feel the least bit sorry for any of them. Well, a couple times I wish I'd chosen better who to kill and who to spare."

"I'm not asking for your autobiography. Just a peek into what you're thinking. The past is past."

"Except when it involves me doing horrible things to a Slayer. I know you feel a link to her, like you're all connected or something."

"That's why I've worked so hard to stay out of the Sisterhood Brigade," she retorts. "You've met two Slayers. One you chose to help. The other you chose to kill. I can't help thinking that if you liked blondes, I'd be the dead one and she'd be the one sharing a bed with you."

"You make it sound so arbitrary."

"Well isn't it?"

"No!," he yells angrily. "I seek out and I kill. That's what I've always done. Hilda was routine. What I did when I met you, I've never done that before. You were special. Not cause you're a Slayer. That's what made me want to kill you. But the rest of you overrode that initial urge. Okay, that didn't come out as well as I'd hoped."

"That's okay. I get your point. You love me despite your worst instincts, and I love you despite my best instincts."

"With all this thinking about why I didn't kill you, I think you're in danger killing our relationship."

"Something always dies. Best when it's other vampires."

"So that's what keeps up together," he says with a chuckle.

"It was great out there with you tonight. When we're fighting, it's like you're an extension of me."

"I know some other times you felt that way," he says, resting his forehead against hers as they sit on the couch. Both of them smile.

"Nice try, loverboy." Devlin leans back away from Debbie.

"Worth a shot." She surprises him by cuddling up on top of him.

"They're not gonna break us up."

"Who?"

"Angel. Buffy. Everyone. I won't let them. You mean more to me than the rest of the world put together."

"How selfish of you," he quips.

"I don't literally mean if I had to choose between killing you and killing the rest of humanity, I'd choose you. Anyway, I don't see how it could ever come to that."

"And if it did, I'd kill myself in an appropriately heroic way. Perhaps, like Spike, I'd get to come back." Debbie yawns, showing that she's tired and disinterested in Spike.

"It's really late. I got school tomorrow."

"Say no more." She stands up and walks towards her room, then turns around.

"You coming?"

"I thought you said you were tired?," he asks back with a dirty smirk. She rolls her eyes.

"We can sleep in the same bed without fucking."

"In theory," he responds, taking off his shirt and walking over to her, hoping to weaken Deb's defenses.

"I almost forgot what a great body you had. Did you have it when you were sired?"

"Not completely. I did a lot of pushups and situps afterwards."

"So your body can change?"

"You can put on muscle. But you can't take off fat. Not with exercise. And the muscle you put on doesn't make you any stronger. It's purely cosmetic."

"So you, umm, just did it to get the girls?"

"I think you know what lengths I'll go to get the girl." This reminds Debbie of her doubts regarding the sincerity of Dev's conversion to goodness.

"Sometimes it works better when you just shut up." He leans in to kiss her. She pushes him onto the bed. "You never give up."

"Cause I always win in the end."

"I said shut up, Dev." She climbs under the covers and puts her arms around him, resting her head on his chest.

"So, what am I now, like, a big teddy bear?"

"Without any fur." She thinks about that and finds it disturbing. "I said shut up." Debbie smiles and goes to sleep. Dev spends the next few hours watching her breathe.

Back at her apartment, Harmony's too excited to sleep. She just keeps counting the huge pile of money Devlin gave her and looking over her new diamonds. But it was more than the fact that a guy gave her precious stones and she didn't even have to sleep with him. She was an essential part of something. She found the bad guys, snuck the good guys in, and then killed the leader herself. She'd never felt so powerful.

Neither had Elektra. After all, she was taking on, and hopefully taking down, two Slayers on the Hellmouth, something even her exalted parents never managed to achieve. Elektra was stoked about making mummy proud, daddy guilty, and her brother jealous. On Sunday night, she turns Veruca Salt's "Seether" all the way up on her car radio with the windows down, climbs atop the slag heap, and waits for the noise to draw the vampires out. Pretty soon, all eleven file out to see what the racket is. Leks has her high beams on, and they're pointing in her direction. "Let's get this party started!," she yells, leaping down and lowering the volume of the music.

"We gonna kill 'em tonight?," a male vampire asks.

"Not until we're good and ready."

"When's that gonna be?"

"Tomorrow night," Leks glibly declares. "I checked out your Slayers last night. Had some fun with them. Bit a few cute boys."

"Were you the naked girl they talked about on the news?," a girl asks contemptuously. Elektra still has to cultivate her female followers.

"I made the news? Cool!" The boys smile. "Any pictures?"

"No," a guy says with disappointment.

"I could check on the internet," another one offered.

"With what kind of connection, dipshit?," she witheringly responds. "You're living inside a fucking rock! Which is all gonna change tonight."

"How ya gonna handle The Ax?," a female vampire asks.

"I dunno, duck?," Elektra jokes. "You know where they're swinging. It ain't rocket science."

"This one's special."

"Yeah, it's also got a stake." Elektra imagines a standard fireman's ax with the end of the shaft whittled to a point.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of their stupid ax. Now remember one thing, people: Slayers are built to die." Spike had taught her this. Of course, it was no longer applicable now that one Slayer needn't perish for another to rise. "We're built to live forever." Her mix tape starts playing Oasis's "Supersonic." A few of the vampires look confused.

"I think you cued the wrong song," a guy offers.

"No, I like this one better." She takes off her brand new black leather jacket (Leks is a bit of a shopoholic/kleptomaniac) to show a pink spaghetti strap top over black Prada pants, with worn-out black converse sneakers for irony's sake, and to show she's not a fashion snob. "Okay boys. I want all of you to jump me. Or at least try. Pretend I'm a Slayer and kick my ass. Eight-against-one. Oh, and to make it worth your while, I'll suck the dick of whichever one of you knocks me down first. The men rush towards her. The women murmur about what a Paris Hilton-like uber-whore Elektra is. She calmly gets to work with a straight right kick, right roundhouse kick and left hook kick, knocking down three men before doing a back flip over two others. The puts one of them down with a straight left kick, ducks the other's left hook kick and nails him with a left hook, right uppercut, left jab and right cross. Once he falls, she leaps over two more men and hits the third in the chest with a leaping right kick. Then she turns, knocks one down with a right cross-left roundhouse punch combination, hits the other with a leaping right hook kick, grabs his arm when he tries a right cross, picks him up and throws him face-first into the rocks. She walks over to the women. "I'm a girl of my word," she jokes. The woman realize Leks is more of a tease than a slut. The men groan and slowly stand up. "If I was a Slayer you'd all be dead by now. Except for one of you who I'd take home to fuck because, well, I'm a Slayer." The girls laugh. "But I'm not, thank God." Elektra rolls her eyes at the thought. "Take your shirts off," she tells the men. "Go on. Don't be shy."

"What's this for?," a girl whispers to Leks.

"Cause I feel like it. Don't you?" The women like the feeling of power Elektra gives them by degrading the boys. "I'm only gonna need six of you to kill those two. These three girls — cause girls are just better — and three of you boys. Now I want you to pair off an fight. No let me do that." She walks over and matches them up. "Remember, only the victors get to share in the glory." She steps back onto a rock pile with the other women. "Begin! I said kick each other's ass! Isn't this cool?," she asks the girls.

"How'd you do that?," the youngest, who's sixteen in human years and three in vampire years, asks. She's never seen anything like Elektra's brazen displays of power and control.

"Men are like dogs. You hit them enough, they slobber on your face and do anything you say." For Leks, this is dark lesson because of Buffy's "domestication" of her hero Spike.

Speaking of which, Spike gets a knock at his door at six am. Then a few more knocks. "Coming Angel. Bloody hell, this better be important." He opens the door. "Claire?"

"Darn, you're only half-naked," she half-jokes. "And your hair's all frizzy." She laughs and touches it. "Guess I'm not the only one in this relationship who uses conditioner."

"I thought you were an artist? Artists sleep late."

"I was up all night developing film at school, and I thought I'd see you before heading home. Or, maybe crash here. I got a class at two, and it'll save me about an hour round-trip. Plus - " She bites her lower lip, smiles and puts her hands on his chest and stomach. Spike backs up as she pushes him towards the bed.

"I'm not some bloody robot you can turn on whenever you like."

"Eww. Who'd wanna fuck a robot?" Spike looks ashamed.

"My point is, love, it's early, I'm tired, and - " She takes off her shirt. "This isn't gonna work." She takes off her bra. Then her shoes and pants. "You're wasting your time." She takes off her panties and tosses them on Spike's head.

"Don't make me dance."

"You . . . dance?," Spike asks with a small, curious smile. He notices she's completely naked, except for a cross around her neck. She walks towards him and he backs up against the brick wall. "Funny how the one thing you left on was that - "

"You can't be too careful. Especially in this town." She undoes his pants as the cross dangles just inches from his chest. "You're more nervous than usual," she notes with a wicked grin. Spike can't help but observe that she's gotten much more forward since they met. "Performance issues?"

"Depends on where you put that thing."

"Well, that depends on whether you keep resisting me." It's almost as if Claire's come to the wacky conclusion that Spike is turned-on by aggressive women who threaten him with bodily harm.

"Well, Claire, pet, it's hard for me to get close to you while you have that bloody thing on."

"Get on the bed." She grabs the cross and moves it towards his chest. Spike growls, grabs her shoulders and throws Claire on the bed. She laughs. He gets on top, but she puts him on his back and kneels over top of him. She leans down a few times, bringing the bottom of the cross even closer to his skin than before. She takes it off, holds it in her right hand, drops it but catches it with her left hand. "I saw you flinch."

"I trust you."

"Really." She puts her body against his and they start kissing. Then she grabs his right hand with her left, putting the cross in between. He cries out while she kisses his neck, but quickly lets the cross fall to the floor after a few seconds. He puts his smoking hand to her left cheek and smiles. She kisses the inside of his wrist. He pulls her head down towards his.

"I didn't know you liked it like that."

"I knew you did."

Elektra couldn't wait to get the fight started. She was finally a war leader, like her parents and brother. She went t the Hellmouth less than an hour after sunset to get her fighters-slash-fodder. Her standards were somewhat selfish. She didn't want to get anyone killed she would consider sleeping with. But this list was short, consisting of only two guys. So she took the three girls and the three best fighters among the six eligible guys. They packed into her car, two girls in front, a girl and two boys in back. This left one boy out. Elektra suggested he sit on one of the boys' laps. Or in the trunk. He objected, not understanding why he couldn't sit on one of the girls' laps. Of course, that would have upset the gender dominance which Lex had established.

Being inexperienced and impatient, drove over to Robin Wood's house and threw a rock through a window with a note attached. Little did Elektra know this was Harmony's first tactic when she wanted to kill Buffy. He was in the kitchen washing dishes when the rock entered his living room. He heard the noise and rushed over to check it out. "Rona. Vi. Come down, please." Knowing Wood's penchant for understatement, they rushed down in case it was a crisis. "Come out, or more people will die'?," he reads.

"It's that stupid girl," Rona guesses.

"I'll get the Scythe," Vi says.

"You got to use it last time," Rona protests. "It's my turn." They both look at Robin.

"She's right. It's her turn."

"You always take her side."

"No I don't." As Vi runs upstairs, Rona gets out a stake and Wood loads a crossbow.

"This could be a trap," he warns.

"A little late for that. They got no one left to bum-rush us with."

"It won't matter if she's got a gun. Remember what happened in California."

"What if we take the car? Maybe try to run her down."

"It'll provide some protection." Vi comes down. She hands Rona the Scythe, who smiles and hands Vi a stake.

"What's the hold up?," Vi asks.

"He thinks she might be packing."

"Packing? You mean like a gun?"

"I've talked this over with Rupert, and we both agree the best tactic to guard against bullets is surprise: close with the enemy before they can spot you, aim and fire. She's waiting for us. So we've lost that."

"Cause only a stupid vampire would come to our neighborhood and challenge us to a fight fair," Rona retorts.

"Or a rash one," Vi adds. "And this girl's definitely rash."

"I wonder if she has clothes on?," Rona asks. They both laugh.

"This is serious," Wood reminds them.

"I know," Rona responds. "We gotta get out their and dust her before she bites anyone."

Outside, two blocks away, Elektra stands on the roof of her car as the vampires mill around in front. "Maybe we should torch the house," a male vampire suggests.

"They'll be here," Leks assures them.


	46. Like a Spice Girl on crystal meth

Elektra does battle with Rona and Vi. Taking a page from Devlin's group, she goes guerrilla, finally getting Buffy to take her seriously, and consider coming across the pond. Which might be needed, after Elektra hooks up with Drusilla. With all the men in the family having gone good, ladies gotta do it for themselves.

The seven vampires stand for a few minutes in impatient silence. Elektra, feeling in an eighties mood, wears a red bikini top, sleeveless black mesh shirt and acid-washed jeans with fashionable tears above the knees. "Go check on the house," Elektra finally suggests to one of the guys. A few seconds later, she hears the loud whir of an engine coming from behind. It's Wood, driving an Excursion with a metal grill guard. He smashes the vehicle into the back right corner of the stolen Buick Leks is standing on and has driven all the way from California. She leaps off at the last instant. The impact to the back and side of the car pretty much totals it, but leaves only a few scratches on Wood's ride. Rona and Vi jump out. "Attack!," Elektra screams as she goes bumpy. The three women charge Rona and the three men rush Vi. Wood steps out, crossbow in hand. He and Elektra lock eyes. She knows killing him would follow Devlin's practice of attacking the enemy where they are weakest. Robin knows she's the leader, and hence the strongest, making someone he shouldn't take his eye off of. He aims. She stands still, thirty feet away, licking her upper lip.

But events intervene, nipping this family feud in the bud (her daddy did kill his mommy). Rona waits until the vampires are a few feet away to whip out the Scythe, beheading the closest one, who is the sixteen year-old girl Elektra did such a good job of impressing. The other two women, upon seeing the mythic weapon, turn tail and run, causing Rona to whiff with her second swing. "Oh no you don't," Leks says as she tries in vain to physically stop the two vampires. Rona was pursuing closely, so once the girls pass Elektra, the Scythe-wielding Slayer is right on top of her. Robin smiles and turns to his left, squeezing the trigger and dusting one of the three men ganging up on Vi. Fueled by testosterone-induced rage at how Elektra had emasculated them, the men grab Vi and push her up against the wall. She pushes two away, but the third one punches her in the mouth. His two friends grab her arms. Right then, Wood shoots the one grabbing her right arm, and she punches the one trying to bite her with two right hooks, tossing the one on her left arm away from her. They attack again, and she knocks them back with a straight right kick and right hook kick. When they attack yet again, not at all dissuaded by their previous failures, she nails the one to her right with a right cross and a left hook, and rams the face of the vamp to her left into the wall.

Elektra ducks Rona's first swing and kicks her stomach with her right foot. Rona takes two steps back and points the stake end in Elektra's direction. She assumes a fighting stance. "What's the matter, Rona? Your fists not good enough?," Leks taunts about her reliance on a superweapon.

"Why waste time beating you up, Alexa?" She's unnerved by the use of her human name. Rona steps forward and spins round, landing a right roundhouse kick and going for the stake. Leks grabs the handle of the Scythe and briefly tries to wrestle it from Rona's hands. She kicks Leks in the stomach with her right foot, and Elektra does a forward flip. Rona spins and goes for a beheading. Leks spins back out of the way and slides right to avoid a straight left kick. Rona settles down, realizing this vampire is much more skilled than most. Not to mention call. Most vamps were completely psyched-out by the Scythe.

"Buffy always lets the black Slayers die first. Just ask Kendra," Elektra says about her mother's kill. Rona hits her chest with a right kick and tries a leaping left kick that Leks jumps back away from, further separating Rona from Vi. "Buffy just left her there all alone to die," Leks adds with a smile. She tries a leaping right kick to Rona's chest, but Rona hops back out of the way before quickly counterattacking with the Scythe. Elektra ducks and grabs the handle yet again. Rona whacks Leks in the face with the handle as she swings it back the other way and regains control of the weapon. "Drop the tool, Rona. Or are you scared of a fair fight?"

Wood wants to help Rona, but not while Vi is still double-teamed. However, after beating up her opponents, Vi takes out her stake, ducks a right hook, nails the vampire's chin with a left uppercut to knock him down, spins round and stakes the other vampire with a backhand stab when he tries to ambush her from behind. The other vampire struggles to his feet and runs away. Vi starts to pursue. "Forget him!," Wood yells as he rushes over to Rona. "Get the leader." Vi looks in the distance, sees Rona going at it with a trashily clothed Elektra, and smiles. She races over to cut off the vampire's escape, knowing that this kill could be the end of their war to bring the Hellmouth to heel.

Realizing that the Scythe limited the types of attacks she could make, Rona hurls it to her right and closes with Elektra. Vi grabs it out of the air in mid-stride. Leks blocks Rona's left jab and right cross, ducks her left hook and swerves her head back away from her straight right kick. After blocking Rona's right roundhouse kick, Elektra goes on the attack with right hook kick and left roundhouse kick, both of which Rona blocks. She parries left and right crosses before hitting Elektra in the face with a left jab. Elektra tries to sweep her legs, but Rona hops in the air and tries a right kick while she's up there. Elektra backs away from it. Rona grabs Elektra's left foot when she tries a kick to the stomach, but Leks frees herself with a backflip, putting her within range of Vi. But Leks does a quick forward flip, causing Vi to whiff with the Scythe. She ducks under Rona's right hook kick, and Rona ducks under Elektra's right hook punch. Elektra blocks a right cross, and Rona backs away from a quick right roundhouse kick. Vi tries to stealthily approach from behind, but Elektra reaches back and puts up her right index finger, wagging it in front of Vi while still in her fight stance facing Rona. "No you don't," she cautions. "Not while me and your girl are still in the middle of something. Leks takes two steps towards Rona, who holds her ground and stares intensely at the vampire, her fists at the ready. "My dad was right. This is better than sex." She smiles and raises her eyebrows flirtatiously in an entirely unplanned lesbian moment, the first in Elektra's life.

While Rona (and Vi, and obviously Wood) are grossed out by her comments, Leks leaps to her left, straight at Wood, who's twenty feet away. He quickly aims and pulls the trigger on his reloaded crossbow. Elektra reaches her right arm out and grabs the arrow when it's three feet off the bow, breaking it in two while hitting Wood's right eye with a left hook while she's still in midair. As the Slayers run towards her, Elektra leaps on top of Wood's SUV. Having given up on killing any of her enemies tonight, Leks returns to her human face. "Come and get me. Come and get me Come and get me Come and get me Come and get me," she chants while childishly jumping up and down on the hood, denting it severely to get back at Robin for totalling her car. She spins round while she jumps, waving her arms to look even more ridiculous. The Slayers roll her eyes. Wood, who's reloaded, has trouble believing the leader of the Forces of Darkness at the Hellmouth was so immature. But when her back is to them, Elektra reaches her right hand into her back right pocket, pulls out a small throwing star and hurls it for Vi's right eye when she spins round again. Vi barely deflects it with the blade of the Scythe. "Fine," Leks finally says, stomping on the roof, making it go lower and lower. "We'll do this again." Elektra puckers her lips in Rona's direction, winks and leaps forward. Wood fires his crossbow once she hits the ground. But Elektra takes off, and with a twenty five foot head start actually outruns the arrow, which falls harmlessly to the ground.

"I think we showed her," Wood boasts. After all, they killed half of Elektra's vampires and sent the rest fleeing in disorder. But the Slayers aren't so sure.

"They've changed," Vi declares.

"I guess they were a little filthier than before," Wood comments.

"No. There were different. They had confidence. That's the first time I've seen them with no fear."

"Until you staked one and the other ran away."

"I don't like this vampire. She's like a damn cat."

"She is quick," Rona concedes. "Doesn't hit too hard, though."

"I meant she's got like nine lives."

"No she doesn't," Wood dissents. "She just runs away real fast. That's all she can do. She can't hurt you. We'll get her." No vampire's ever been double-teamed by Vi and Rona and escaped. Now Elektra had done it twice. "I know it's frustrating. But we're making her life Hell. She can't feed, she can't sleep, she can't win. And now she knows it."

"Who's Kendra?," Rona asks Wood.

"Excuse me?"

"Was there a Slayer named Kendra?," Wood thinks.

"I think she was the one before Faith."

"Did she die in Sunnydale?" Robin pauses for a few seconds.

"I don't know," he answers truthfully.

While the Slayers might have been spooked, Elektra was devastated. Her first big job had been a disaster. The vampires wouldn't fight. The Watcher was surprisingly aggressive. Her army had been routed. She'd let down the family name. Okay, her family didn't have a name, but she let it down nonetheless. Leks pounds a brick wall until her knuckles bleed, chipping some of the bricks in the process. She licked the blood and thought about her brother. Her careful brother, whose meticulous, boring and uninspired plans always went off without a hitch. With the odds against her, she'd have to be more like Dev and less like Spike. What would Devlin do? Then she smiled. Attack their base! Her will renewed, Elektra sprinted forth to try to salvage some sort of moral victory on this night.

Angel comes down to open the cell a few minutes before sunrise, and was shocked to find Nina in human form. He was even more shocked to find entangled with Oz. Nina hears the door swing and opens her eyes. She looks very guilty, springs to her feet and backs away from Oz, who slowly rouses himself from a deep sleep. Angel smiles. "You changed back a little early."

"I uh, I uh, I don't think I changed at all."

"What?"

"When I went to sleep, I was still human."

"You were? That's great!" Angel hugs Nina, who still feels ashamed for bonding so much with Oz.

"Yeah. It was a big surprise."

"Your girlfriend's a quick study," Oz offers. "If it's okay, I'm gonna split."

"Sure," Angel says. He shakes Oz's right hand as he leaves and pats him on the back with his left hand. "Thanks were everything. You've really gone above and beyond." Now Oz feels ashamed. He catches Nina's eye, lets go of Angel's hand and hurries on out of there. "Isn't this great?," Angel asks with a big smile.

"It's a big step."

"Maybe in a month or two this place will be a thing of the past."

"Maybe." Because, for a long time, the only times she saw Angel were when she was going to the cage, Nina's always associated it with him. Were they also on their way to being a thing of the past?

Shortly before noon, Spike confidently strides on in. "You're late," Harmony points out.

"I have a good excuse." Harmony stands up, grabs his coat and smells Spike.

"You just had sex. With that college girl who looks like Willow."

"She does not look anything like . . . I smell Dev. He's been on you every day this week. Does Angel know who you're making time with afterhours?"

"For you information, we kill vampires and save lives together."

"You — a hero?" He laughs. Harmony snarls.

"Go ahead and misunderestimate me if you want. But one of these days it'll cost you."

"Is that bravado?," Spike asks with a smirk. "Looks good on you," he concedes before heading in to see who he'd be saving today.

"Does your Willow Clone know you still have a thing for me?," Harmony yells as Spike walks past her.

Elektra ripped off the padlock, burst through the doors and scampered down the dark hallway straight for the Principal's Office. "I've never been to the Principal's Office. I was such a good girl. Once upon a time." She kicks open his door and turns on the lights. "So much to trash. So little time." She picks up his computer monitor and hurls it to the floor, doing the same to his hard drive before stomping on it to make sure it's destroyed. She puts her left fist through the desk, then rips out drawers, smashing them against the wall. She throws down his diplomas and stomps on them, then picks up a file cabinet and bodyslams it. She busts up his chair, throws down a bookcase, and generally rages until she hears the click of a gun getting cocked.

"Put your hands up!" Elektra looks at the security guard, obeys his order and smiles.

"Be a good boy and walk away. Or one of us will die."

"On you knees." He's already radioed the cops about the breaking and entering.

"I'm not that kinda girl. Not for you anyway," she jokes. She takes a small step forward.

"Stay where you are, or I'll have to fire."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Elektra leaps forward. He fires and misses, shattering the window behind what was Wood's desk. She gets behind him and bites the left side of the guard's neck. When she tries to grab the gun with her right hand as she drains him, the guard fires once into the air before slowly sinking to the floor. Elektra keeps drinking, since all that running had made her hungry. When she's finished, she takes hold of the gun, remembers Devlin's fondness for firearms, and gets a new idea. Thinking like Dev was cool.

Elektra was too tired to race at top speed to her next destination, so she took the guard's car keys and drove back to Wood's house. He was on the land line with Giles in his bedroom while Rona was talking to Buffy in her bedroom on her cell phone. Rupert and Buffy were both in their bedrooms, having been awoken by Robin. Gretchen sleeps through Giles's conversation. "I agree with you," Rupert says to Wood. "Tonight was a smashing success. The girls are perfectionists."

"If you were giving Angel his soul back, why did you need to see him right then?," Rona asks Buffy.

"If the spell didn't work, I had to stop him from killing anyone else. Look, Rona, you don't know how many times I've second-guessed myself about that night. I feel horrible about what happened."

"Why didn't you stay with your friends and make Kendra meet Angel? That way, he wouldn't kill anyone, and you could protect them, while still not following the bad guy's orders."

"Well, then I might have been the dead one." This causes Rona to see the gravity of Buffy's decision and convinces her to stop second-guessing Buffy six years after the fact.

"I guess the closer they get to victory, the more they want it," Wood theorizes.

"What if she gets reinforcements?," Giles wonders.

"I don't know how much credibility she'll have with other vampires after tonight. Would you follow a proven loser?"

"I meant from outside the Hellmouth, where her failure is not yet known."

"You think she's already fled?"

"I'm sure she's on the run. These last few nights, you've proven to her that she's not safe anywhere in Cleveland." Just then, Elektra fires a bullet through Wood's window, through his wall, and into the ceiling above the top of the stairs. He hits the deck. "What was that?," Giles asks.

"A gunshot."

"Oh dear. I suppose that's her plan B." Vi runs into Wood's room.

"Was that a gun?"

"Get down!" he pulls her to the ground.

"Buffy, I think I gotta go." She hangs up. Elektra runs around to the other side of the house and fires at Rona's shadow in the window. Nothing. She tries again. Nope. Then she looks at the revolver and realizes she has to cock it before each shot.

"Rona get away from the window!," Vi screams after opening the bedroom door. Rona hits the deck just in time to miss the bullet, which goes through the glass, through the door two feet above Vi's head, and into the bathroom before lodging itself in the shower tile.

"Rona!," Wood shouts.

"I'm okay!," she shouts back. Now everyone's on the ground and away from the windows.

In Rome, Buffy calls Giles. "Giles is something wrong?"

"Yes," he calmly replies. "It would appear that Robin's house is under fire."

"What?"

"Someone, probably this female vampire, is attacking them with some sort of firearm."

"God, that's lame."

"And potentially quite deadly."

"Yeah. I know. Having been shot myself."

Elektra then travels round to the back of the house and fires into Vi's room, since her light is on. She fires her forth shot into the kitchen, through the dining room and out the front window. After running round front, she tries to fire again, but can't, and realizes she's out of bullets. Robin and the Slayers have no idea how much ammunition the attacker or attackers have, and stay hunkered door. Leks runs up the stairs onto the porch, kicks open the front door and hurls the pistol into the television set in the living room before running away. After a minute, Wood decides it's safe to get up and steps outside to explore. With crossbow in hand, of course. He finds nothing. Rona discovers the gun in the busted tv set.

"She took out our tv? The bitch must die," Vi declares with mock seriousness.

"This isn't funny," Wood says as he gets back inside.

"No, just desperate," Rona retorts. Whatever respect Elektra gained by fending them off she forfeited by resorting to such a cowardly form of attack. Buffy quickly races to Rupert's house and finds him and Gretchen in their bathrobes, which is rather disturbing for her.

"Robin called," Gretchen reports. "They're safe. Just a few broken windows. And a broken television. That's what's really got the girls pissed off."

"I can imagine," Buffy replies. "So much for this vampire running away."

"She's resilient," Giles concedes.

"And maybe bringing in reinforcements?," Buffy asks. "We know she knows Drusilla, after that Kendra thing." Nothing pisses Buffy off more than a vampire questioning her leadership ability in front of another Slayer.

"I'm sure they can handle the challenge," Giles responds.

"Especially with Robin backing them up," Gretchen chimes in.

"I'm going there."

"What?," Giles asks Buffy in disbelief.

"I'm going to Cleveland to help them pacify the Hellmouth."

"But they've already done ninety percent of the pacification," Gretchen points out.

"Why do you want to put them at risk?"

"They'll see it as an insult," Giles rightly points out. "You'll be telling them they can't handle the job on their own."

"That's better than letting one of them die."

"You're needed here," Gretchen states.

"No I'm not. You can run the school without me for a few days."

"And if it takes longer?," Giles wonders.

"It won't. We're only talking about a handful of very dangerous vampires."

"What makes you think they'll return immediately? Especially if they find out you're in town. How long are you willing to wait around: a week, a month, a year?"

"You go to one place, and they'll just attack Slayers somewhere else," Gretchen argues.

"Then send the two newbies to Cleveland instead of London."

"They're needed in London," Gretchen counters. "Have you talked to Robeson lately?"

"Actually I haven't," Giles replies. "How is he?"

"Quite good, considering his lack of Slayers."

"So you want me to just sit here and do nothing?"

"I want you to go on doing your job," Giles retorts. "To not be held hostage by the machinations of a few elusive vampires."

After the police arrive at his house, Wood learns about the attack at the school, and heads down there with a bleary-eyed Rona and Vi. He's a little shocked to find his office in such deplorable condition. "Now this, this is a new low." Plenty of vampires had wanted him dead. None had vandalized his work space.

"Was she looking for something?," Rona asks.

"If she was, no way she could find it in this mess," Vi jokes, impress with the thoroughness of Elektra's mayhem. To her, Leks is like a Spice Girl on crystal meth.

"Have you been threatened by any current or former students?," an officer asks Robin.

"I wouldn't be a good principal if I hadn't," he quips. "But none who would be inclined to or capable of doing this. Poor Wally," he adds about the dead security guard he'd chatted with a few times. "He had a wife and two kids."

"We're guessing the attacker picked one of the padlocks and jimmied the door lock to get in, then kicked in your door. Mister Henderson, hearing the noise, came to investigate the situation, and was attacked with some sort of serrated knife. He fired two shots, but the attacker moved quickly, and he didn't have time to aim properly."

"There's still the question of motive," another officer points out.

"Can you excuse me for one moment?," Wood asks before walking off to call his contact in the department and explain that this was one of those "X-File" cases. A little later on, after the cops have cleaned up the crime scene and the janitor removed the broken furniture and machines from Wood's office, he's outside the school talking with his Slayers. The sun is coming up. "So we know this girl's a sore loser," Wood jokes.

"Maybe we should check the hotels again, see if we can find her," Rona suggests. She's eager to be rid of this danger, while Vi doesn't take Elektra quite so seriously. To her, it's still a game, and she likes the challenge Leks represents.

"You really think she'd be that stupid?," Vi asks.

"No, I think she'd be that cocky," Rona retorts.

"The police have been on the lookout for a teenage girl travelling alone and paying with cash since Saturday night," he reminds them. "If they find her, we'll be the first to know. Until then, consider yourselves lucky. I have to work. You get to sleep."

A few hours later that morning, Elektra stands under a covered walkway along Lake Erie. She slouches, with her arms folded, and looks very glum. A motorboat pulls up to a nearby pier, and the pilot walks over to Elektra, carrying an umbrella to shield her from the sun. "You must be the beautiful young woman I was sent for."

"Thanks. That makes you the guy I don't wanna kill. Yet." He shudders because she looks deadly serious. Leks grabs the umbrella and walks onto the boat, disappearing below deck. The nervous pilot steps back into the cockpit, turns up the radio so he won't be able to hear what's going on in back, and zooms northward. Elektra is greeted downstairs by two muscular men in tuxedos.

"Good morning Miss - " one of them begins before Leks raises her left hand to cut him off.

"No talking. It ruins the game." She lies down on the wraparound couch along the wall, picking up a wine glass. One of the men fills it with hot blood. "Strip. And do a little dance." The other man obliges her. She downs the blood while she watches, and gets a refill. Elektra looks up at her blood steward. "I said strip." He puts down the pot and joins in. There's no music, and Leks gets a kick of how they're dancing to slightly different rhythms. "Now touch each other. You heard me. Get naughty." They stop. "Did mummy tell you what I do when I don't get my way?," she asks with a raised eyebrow as she lights up a smoke, a habit she picked up from daddy. They oblige their guest, and she laughs, enjoying watching the two men look so sexy and uncomfortable.

"What do you think?," Elektra asks Dev about her flowery new blouse as she pirouettes. He's slumped in a chair reading Xenophon's Anabasis while Spike and Dru sleep soundly.

"Quiet. You'll wake them."

"I heard mummy screaming last night, and after a few hours of that she sleeps like a rock," Elektra whispers before giggling. Devlin doesn't like hearing about his parents' sex life.

"You look like a damn hippie," Dev says of her blouse.

"We'll see what the warm-blooded boys think."

"You're hungry again, aren't you?"

"What's your problem, Dev? Don't you like the taste of blood?"

"I feed to live. But I have better things to do for recreation."

"Like read your stupid books?"

"I read to learn tactics and strategy, to better defeat our enemies."

"Spike defeats our enemies."

"It's inevitable that he will one day be confronted by forces more powerful than him."

"I say it's evitable."

"Success breeds resistance. It's a law of history."

"Since when did history have laws?" His sister can be such a smart aleck.

"You want to go out for something to eat?"

"No, I want to go to the movies," she replies sarcastically. "Actually I do want to go to the movies. After my midday snack."

"Have fun."

"What will mummy and daddy say when they find out you let me go out all alone in the daytime?"

"I'm sick of being your lookout."

"Mummy will me happy with you." He looks over at the peacefully sleeping Drusilla. Leks knows how much he pines for his mommy.

"Fine." She smiles and jumps up and down. He stands up, gets his brown leather jacket on (unlike his studded black leather jacket, it affords him anonymity) and heads into the sewers with his sister.

"Can you teach me some more Kung Fu moves?," she asks, trying a few high kicks as she skips along.

"It's not Kung Fu. And you need to simplify. You use too many useless acrobatics when you fight."

"Don't go knocking my flips, bro." Elektra was only a few months old, but she had already shown great precocity.

"Where do you want to go?," he asks, knowing the futility of lecturing his sister on the fundamentals. He'll have to prove his point by sparring with her later and kicking her ass.

"High school."

"Which one?"

"Dunno. Don't care. Find me one"

"And how are we supposed to do that from underground?"

"I thought you knew this city like the back of your hand?"

"This should only take a few hours," he grumbles before hitting the metal pipe with his fist, causing it to reverberate. "Do you actually like spending time with me?"

"Of course!" She hugs Dev and kisses him on the cheek.

"So this is what happens when you save a girl's life: you can never get rid of her."

Debbie arrives home from school Friday afternoon and is surprised to find Devlin still in bed. She puts an eyedropper in a bottle of holy water and places a drop on his back. Dev screams and wakes up. Debbie laughs. He leaps out of bed and wrestles her into the hallway. "What have I done now?," he asks, pinning her shoulders to the floor.

"I thought you like that kinda thing," she replies with a playful grin.

"When it's leading to something else. Is it?" She pushes him off of her and stands up.

"So we're still in a love-loathe relationship. Is that why you burned me?"

"No. It was, it was just — when you sleep, you don't breathe. You look like a corpse."

"We've been sleeping together for four months now."

"And I still haven't gotten used to it."

"But you're fine with me being invisible in the mirror."

"It doesn't make sense, I'll admit. But neither does us."

"Sometimes it's fun to break the bounds of rationality."

"And sometimes, when the guy I love looks like a lifeless corpse, I do something to make me know he's alive."

"You could have just slapped me in the back or something."

"But that would be so ordinary, and we're so extreme."

"We were," he huffs as he puts a shirt on and walks into the living room.

"Hey," she says grabbing his shirt, spinning Dev around and giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Even if we're not living some Penthouse fantasy at the moment, we're still pretty extreme in my book." He leans in and kisses her.

"Maybe not extreme, but definitely controversial."

"So why were you sleeping so late?"

"Because I was dreaming about you." She looks skeptical. "I dunno. Cause we finished a big job. There's always a let down."

"A let down? Now our nights are free! We can go on real dates. Take vacations. Go on long weekend drives."

"They'll be more vampires coming here. Just not as many as before. We still have to stay vigilant."

"Were you this much of a workaholic when you were evil?"

"More so. Back then, I didn't have a beautiful lover to distract me." She smiles and hugs him.

"Where do you wanna go for Spring Break next month?"

"We could fly to San Francisco. Or New York."

"You can fly? WITH me. Not down below with all the pets?"

"I'll charter a private plane."

"Holy shit! We'll be like rock stars."

"Why not? Vampires have tried to live like rock stars for decades. Why shouldn't Slayers? You're young, you're gorgeous, you got super powers. Plus, there's all that life-saving you do. In a just world, you'd be treated like royalty, given money and jewelry and fancy houses, have movie stars kissing your ass."

"Which ones?"

"Not Orlando Bloom." She pouts.

"I thought it was a just world."

"But seriously, now that your own backyard's secure, you can take your show on the road."

"You mean like this summer?," she asks with a smile.

"We can drive all over the country. Hit every city that hasn't been hit by the Buffy drones. And we can go to Mexico. She's got no presence north of the capital. Or in any of western Canada. We could have a pretty busy summer."

"With some sightseeing still thrown in?"

"For you. I can't see much during the day, anyway."

"There are other things you can do during the day. Maybe by then I'll be in the mood to join in."

Elektra lies on a couch in the back of the boat, naked, with Cindy Lauper's "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" playing on the stereo. Both men are also naked. One of them has his head between her legs. The other one licks blood off her breasts. Leks gleefully moans. "I bet those Slayers aren't having this much fun right now." Being bad was dangerous, but it had its rewards.

Near the close of the three hour, sixty mile journey across Lake Erie, Elektra gave the men a rest and took a nice hot shower. Mummy had packed some of her daughter's old clothes: white jeans and a blue shirt with a silver star in the center. Leks put them on and combed her wet, stringy hair with one of the combs mummy had that were made out of human bone. Their tuxedos back on, one of the men gives her a backrub while the other pours her some more blood. "I should probably let you two drink, after your exertions. But then you might view me as a benevolent mistress. And we can't have that." Elektra's privileged upbringing among two of the world's foremost vampires gave her a sense of entitlement that caused her to look at nearly all other vampires as slaves. Though now twenty five, she is still very much the little princess. When he pulls into the dock, the human pilot races off the boat and gets in his car without waiting for payment from Drusilla. It's cloudy, so Elektra can walk out without her umbrella.

On a desolate section of shore between Blenheim and Leaminngton is a suitably spooky Victorian mansion for its spooky Victorian resident. Elektra runs in. "Mummy? Mummy! It's me mummy!" Drusilla, the languorous antithesis of her hyperactive daughter, slowly walks down the stairs. She wears a white gown. This sight stops Leks in her tracks. Her eyes grow wide. "Oh mummy. You're prettier than ever."

"Moi sweet. Moi sweet girl." She slowly walks up to Elektra, who embraces mummy and buries her head in her bosom. "Oi've missed you."

"I've missed you too," Leks responds, starting to cry. Dru looks at her face and wipes the tears away. Elektra smiles.

"Did you enjoy my present?" Leks turns around and looks at the two men.

"Oh yes. So much so I didn't even consider killing them." Dru knows that's a high compliment coming from Elektra.

"Oi made them just for you." Dru clicks her tongue twice, and the men disappear into the basement. "I knew you'd be coming."

"Do you know why I'm here?" Dru lets go of Elektra and starts walking around the cavernous hall.

"Little girls flying over the world like maggots, picking it clean."

"Yeah, it's pretty fucked up out there." Dru slaps her wrist.

"Watch your language, little girl."

"Sorry, but they've got me pretty," she's going to say pissed off, but stops. "You know. And it's not like the old days. You can't fight them one at a time."

"The destroyers hunt in packs."

"That's I need you, mummy. I need your help. You and me, we can kill them."


	47. Running home to mommy

"So occasionally they get attacked by a mob of angry lesbians. That's the price you have to pay."

Jeta teaches the Slayers not to attack her while she's out socializing. Dru tells Elektra how she can defeat Rona and Vi. Angel and Spike start to regress, while Harmony just keeps getting better and better.

Finally, a place to relax and have some fun. After being chased out of the German-speaking parts of Europe, Jeta lets loose in a lesbian bar in Geneva, dancing jubilantly to French techno. Most of the women stand back and watch the long-haired dark beauty whirl around in her long, bright blue skirt and yellow sleeveless blouse. Jeta stands moving towards a very tall, thin woman in a black, low-cut pants suit with short black hair and bright green eyes, seducing her as she moves closer and closer. When finally the woman can take the teasing no more and tries to kiss her, Jeta playfully moves back, then takes the woman's hands and starts dancing with her, spinning the larger woman over her head, flipping her around, sliding her under her legs, and performing all sorts of thrilling moves a woman of Jeta's size simply should not have the strength to pull off. The song ends, the breathless woman collapses in Jeta's arms, and the crowd goes wild. Jeta and her new girl sit down at the back of the room as a mellow ambient piece wafts over the speakers. Jeta puts her left arm around the woman's shoulders and her right hand on her right thigh. They talk in French. Jeta apologizes for her shaky command of the language, but her date doesn't mind. She just smiles and gazes into Jeta's dark eyes, utterly captivated. They start kissing. Jeta strokes the woman's hair with her left hand and moves her right hand onto the her right breast, unbuttoning the top button of her suit. She can feel the green eyed woman's heart pounding with anticipation. Jeta leans in and kisses her neck, causing the woman to moan lightly. But out of her right eye, Jeta can see two Teutonic-looking blonde girls enter the club, the scowls on their faces showing they mean business. The one in front pulls out a crossbow and fires. Jeta spins to her right, and the arrow hits the upholstery between the vampire and her new girlfriend. Several gasps are heard, and the music stops.

"Yetta!," the second Slayer yells, grabbing a cue stick and breaking off the end. Jeta stands up.

"Fascistos," Jeta responds, confusing the two Slayers. The one with the cue stick attacks, hitting Jeta in the face with the back end, kicking her in the chin and going for the stake, causing many women to gasp and Jeta's wannabe lover to scream. Jeta grabs the stick, rips it free and breaks it over the Slayer's head. The second girl lands a left jab and a right hook before tossing Jeta through the air into the wall near the tall green-eyed woman, who looks on in horror. The two Slayers now gang up on Jeta, pounding her mercilessly. One the them takes out her stake, confident they'll have this pesky vampire slayed in seconds.

"Murderer!," one of the women yells in French.

"Nazis!," any yells, throwing her glass at the back of one Slayer's head. Another woman tosses a beer bottle. Then six more women toss beer bottles. The Slayers are grabbed from behind and pulled away from Jeta. The green eyed woman grabs her date, who was obviously the victim of a vicious hate crime, and holds the vampire in her arms. Jeta kisses her passionately then whispers in the woman's ear, asking where she lived. The woman whispered her address.

"Can I come over?"

"Of course!" Jeta kisses her again and disappears into the melee. Her new girlfriend anxiously looks around, but figures Jeta had no choice but to leave to escape the anti-Gypsy lynching. Or maybe these neo-Nazi girls hated homosexuals. Or perhaps it was a combination of the two bigotries. None of this had occurred to the Slayers before they entered the club. In their minds, they are trying to save lives, including the lives of every woman in that building. Getting attacked by an angry mob was the last thing they expected to happen. They plead for the crowd to come to their senses and scream for calm, but it doesn't stop the pummelling. One Slayer gets her left cheek deeply slashed by a broken beer bottle. The other takes a billiard ball to the mouth, knocking several of her teeth loose. The Slayers are finally able to push several women away and reluctantly punch a few more, creating space between them and the mob, which settles down now that the homophobic racist attackers appear too badly beaten to be a threat. One woman holds up a crossbow she grabbed off a Slayer's back and looks confused. Who did they think they were, William Tell? The bruised, bleeding and bewildered Slayers limp out of the bar and fall to the ground outside.

"What would Kennedy say?," one girl jokes to the other as she coughs up blood. She responds by swearing in German about how stupid those women were. A raven perches atop a nearby roof, and starts to crow. It sounds like its laughing. Jeta then flies away. Hopefully, when she returns to human form and pays her new lover a visit, her wounds will not have healed that much. She looks forward to being pampered and treated like a brave victim of senseless oppression.

"I still can't believe that happened," Buffy says at the dinner table the next evening with Xander, Dawn, Giles and Gretchen. "When did victims start defending people who want to kill them and hurting people who want to protect them?"

"Obviously they didn't feel they needed protection," Gretchen responds.

"So they're idiots?," Buffy asks.

"No, Frieda and Erma were naive," she responds, implying that Buffy's naive, which deeply irritates Buffy. Gretchen has a habit of pointing out how naive Buffy is about the wider world, as if she were some backward provincial rather than a legendary Slayer. For the record, Gretchen believes Buffy is both.

"How is trying to stop a killer naive?" Gretchen laughs condescendingly.

"It's naive to assume that you can walk into a social establishment and use deadly force without people getting upset. Your entire line of questioning assumes these women knew Yetta was a vampire." Buffy thinks about this and relates it to how she acted at the Bronze back in the day.

"You're right," she concedes. "They should have waited for an attack. Or until she left the place." Giles smiles. This is why he thinks Gretchen's such a good influence on Buffy — she makes Buffy question her own assumptions.

"In Erma's and Frieda's defense, they were dealing with a vampire who can fly away once she's out in the open," Giles points out. "It was correct of them to enter and try to trap Yetta. But they should forced Yetta to make the first move."

"But, like most of the girls we've put in the field, they don't understand restraint," Gretchen adds. She worries about the arrogance these new Slayers feel once they're put together in teams, even though these teams are far more efficient and prolific when it comes to slaying.

"Better an aggressive Slayer than a cautious one," Xander argues. "Nine times out of ten, they dust the bad guy and save a lot of lives. So occasionally they get attacked by a mob of angry lesbians. That's the price you have to pay." Xander thinks about this. "No. On second thought, that should never happen."

"A group of angry, sexist men I could understand," Buffy replies. "But women? It makes no sense."

"I thought lesbians liked Slayers," Xander adds.

"They also like Yetta," Dawn points out. "I've been doing some research on her. She's very popular. Not just among lesbians. It's said that she can seduce most straight women. And the funny part is, she only kills the people who turn her down. Okay, that's not so funny. But if all these woman liked her, she wouldn't ever kill any of them, so they'd have no way of knowing she was evil. Which might explain why they went all Amazon on the Slayers." Dawn knows how conceited most Slayers are, and part of her relishes the idea of two of them getting thrashed by a bunch of normals.

"So, if, say, this vampire ever hit on me, I should sleep with her?," Xander asks.

"Yes," Dawn replies, to Buffy's and Rupert's disapproval. At last, a sexy demon Xander needn't fear.

"Except that would never happen because she's a lesbian," Buffy adds, slightly dismayed by the whole concept of Xander willingly fornicating with the enemy.

"Yetta goes both ways," Dawn clarifies. "Mostly the girl way, but not all the time. She's seduced men. And then killed their wives and children. But that counts as bisexual, right?" Dawn hasn't come across any information about Jeta's time with Spike.

"On a more appetizing note, I am delighted to report that the Akakawa clan has been annihilated," Giles announces. Buffy smiles and looks pleasantly surprised.

"All of them?"

"Yes. Aneko, Haru and Yumiko made a bold attack that took the entire clan completely by surprise."

"So this gang was especially bad?," Xander asks.

"That's an understatement," Gretchen replies.

"The three leading members of the clan have between them killed four Slayers," Giles explains, referring to Slayers before the post-Willow proliferation. "Which was the entirety of Japanese Slayers in the past two centuries. This is an enormous triumph."

"Were they is Osaka?," Dawn asks.

"I believe so. Why?"

"No reason." Dawn had predicted they'd be there since it's their clan's place of origin. "Are the other vampire leaders in Tokyo?" With its vastness, Tokyo would have been a far better place to hide.

"I believe so," Giles replies. "But with the Akakawa out of the way, there's no one to provide leadership. The girls should be able to take them in detail with relative ease."

"Hoshiko, Goro and Manzo are much tougher than the two vampires you fear Rona and Vi might face," Gretchen says to Buffy.

"And Aneko, Haru and Yumiko are far less experienced," Giles concurs.

"I guess you're right," Buffy concedes. "I was wigging cause of Kendra. But they'll be fine. As long as they stick together."

"Your hair must be fixed," Dru says to Elektra in response for her plea for help. "And your clothes. I found a gown that would look perfect on you." Dru has a habit of dressing Leks up as if she were a life-sized version of one of Dru's dolls.

"It won't look perfect if I'm dust!," Leks responds, freaking Dru out. "These Slayers are everywhere. I can't beat them on my own. I need you, mum." Drusilla looks concerned and puts her right hand to Elektra's face. They both smile and share a tender moment.

"You need family."

"I know. And you're all I got." Dru turns around and walks away, looking cross at the reference of Spike. When she's twenty feet away, at the edge of the stairs, she turns around.

"No I'm naught." She quickly claps her hands twice. "Come deary." Elektra obeys her mother and follows her upstairs, where two older women do their hair and get them into expensive gowns. Throughout the whole mother-daughter makeover, Elektra thinks about what her mother said. When they're done, her hair is a mountain of curls, and Dru's is curled much like it was when she met William. She wears a shimmering red gown, while Leks wears a dark blue gown. Dru is blown away by her daughter's splendid appearance.

"Miss Edith couldn't compare to you on her best day."

"You're beautiful, mummy." They hold hands and spin around and laugh. When they separate, Dru dances around on her own. "Do you like it?," Leks asks, knowing the answer, but wanting the validation.

"On you? Every stitch." She takes her daughter and starts waltzing with her. "The Prince won't take his eyes off you at the ball."

"Except to pay you a look."

"Nonsense, deary. He knows I've saved all my dances for the duke." Elektra has plenty of experience playing along with her mom's flights of fancy. Suddenly, Dru gets upset, backs away from Leks and starts shaking her arms. "These hands. These hands. All wrong. I can't abide them." Leks rushes over and gently hugs her mom, then grabs her wrists.

"It's okay. It's okay, mummy. We forgot the gloves." She walks over and picks up a part of long white gloves. "See." She puts them on. Dru smiles.

"You'll awlways be by sweet." She kisses Elektra on the nose. Leks beams with pride. Now that the outfits are complete, Dru runs downstairs and watches Elektra slowly glide down the stairs like a mother watching her daughter go off to the prom. Once she's at the bottom, Elektra twirls several times, to the delight of Drusilla. She even executes a pirouette. Dru claps. Leks curtsies. Her mother eats it up.

"I think we're all ready for the ball," Elektra, a Jersey girl who's never been to a ball but has been to hundreds of discos, jokes to mummy.

"You'd be the prettiest doll there. The boys would crawl to you for a mere touch of your finger."

"They'd better," Leks responds with a growl. Dru starts humming a song and gliding across the great hall. Elektra's had fun playing dress-up, but wants to get down to business. "When you said my family would help, did you mean Devlin?" Dru stops dancing and walks over, putting a gloved hand under her daughter's chin.

"He is your brave knight," she responds, referring to Devlin's old role as Elektra's protector.

"Yeah well, now he's someone else's knight," Leks comments bitterly.

"He was born to kill Slayers. He was born from one," she notes, referring to the connection between Dev's siring and Nikki's death.

"Dev's already done that. Now he's fucking one." Dru looks cross and slaps Elektra with the back of her gloved right hand. Elektra's lip bleeds.

"Bad baby. Using language like that." Leks licks up the blood.

"My point is, he can't do both at the same time."

"He won't have to."

"You know something I don't? Course you do. You're YOU. What is it?" Dru leans in so her face is six inches from her daughter's.

"He is the one. This is his toim. Bring him back, deary." She mulls this over.

"You mean I should kill that Slayer he's with? Wouldn't that make him mad?" Drusilla laughs. Her daughter says the most adorable things.

"Come here, darling." Elektra hugs her. Drusilla sits down, strokes her daughter's hair and rest Elektra's head on her bosom. "Listen to my heart," she says wit her usual nonsense. "It says, Moi babies will make me proud.' You and your big brother are one." Leks recalls the previous week when they worked together and she kneecapped Angel, and she smiles. She knows it's best not to tell mummy of this, since thinking of Angelus will only distract her. Also Elektra doesn't like to be reminded that their family has roots beyond Drusilla. Then again, maybe mummy's read her thoughts and already knows.

"I'll try, mummy. I'll go, and I won't leave until I make him come. You'll be so proud."

"Oi awlready am, dear." Elektra smiles. Tears well up in her eyes and she sniffles.

"I love you mummy." They sit there in silence a little while longer, sharing this tender moment. Then Elektra hears footsteps to her left.

"Is this your daughter?," a man asks in a prim English voice. Elektra stands up. "She's lovely. What a vision!" Elektra glares at what to her looks like a taller, burlier version version of Tom Cruise's Lestat, with his black curls, frilly white shirt, tan waistcoat and brown pants. Drusilla stands up behind her daughter and starts to tremble.

"Go, go, go, go, go," she says over and over as he walks towards the two beautiful, resplendently dressed women.

"You look quite ravishing yourself, Drusilla darling." Dru starts her high-pitched moaning, like a tea kettle. Elektra goes bumpy and rips off part of the bannister while emitting a low growl. Realizing he's under attack, the man tries to run. Elektra leaps while screaming at the top of her lungs. She grabs his ankles, tackles him and gets on top.

"You are not my father! You are not my father!," Elektra screams as she lands ten left hooks, one with each word. Then she drives the stake in her right hand through his heart with such force that the point shatters against the hardwood floor. Elektra returns to her human face and stands up, calmy watching him writhe until he turns to dust.

"Tarquin!," Dru screams, rushing over. She grabs Elektra by her right ear and drags the naughty girl outside, where the weather is quite overcast. "Bad, bad, bad, bad girl."

"He didn't deserve you!" Dru tosses Elektra into Lake Erie, then wades in herself. They're both still wearing their gowns.

"What chance did you give him?," Dru asks before dunking Elektra's head into the water. After struggling for ten seconds, Elektra stops and looks up calmy at her mother through the water with her big blue eyes. Dru keeps her under and starts to shake her, still under the delusion that she's drowning the girl. After a minute, she gives up.

"Whew! That was scary. Not!" Dru puts her hands around Elektra's throat and chokes her.

"Whoi can't I be happy!" She lets go, and Elektra stumbles back and falls on her butt before getting up.

"That thing could never make you happy, mummy. Okay, he wasn't as barf-inducing as some of the other things' I've caught you with. But come on! Anything I can kill isn't good enough for you." Elektra is very, very particular when it comes to what she sees as stepfathers. And like all spoiled children, she lashes out and throws a tantrum when she doesn't get her way. Dru doesn't like punishing Elektra and tries to mollify her daughter. She walks over to her. They stand there up to their waists in water.

"You miss your father." A sulking Elektra nods. "I miss him too." Elektra hugs her mommy. They both start to cry.

"I'll make her pay," Elektra vows in between sniffles. "I'll make Buffy pay for taking him away from us." Dru smiles and kisses her daughter's forehead.

"I know you will." She wipes away Elektra's tears. Elektra takes her mother's left hand in her right hand and they walk towards the shore. "Would you loik to have a tea party?" Elektra makes a big smile and nods enthusiastically.

"You have a people cellar?" When her mother says "tea party," it's a euphemism for a genteel, well-behaved massacre. "Of course you do. This house is in the middle of the fucking boonies." Dru slaps Elektra's wrist.

"Wut did I tell you about your mouth?"

"Sorry."

"Just for that, you only get one boy to eat."

"But mo-om!," she whines.

"Okay. Three."

"Yaaay!" When she's alone, Leks has to be an adult. But when she's with her parents, she can indulge her childish side to the fullest.

Spike and Angel walk into Fred's lab on Saturday afternoon, where she's hanging out with Wesley. Angel's holding a folder. "Were you in charge of Champion's Awards?," Angel asks.

"I believe Gunn handled that," Wes responds.

"Couldn't you come up with a better name?," Spike wonders as Angel pages Gunn.

"What are you doing here on a weekend?," Fred asks Spike. She assumed he'd still be sleeping off whatever he did the night before.

"Just thought I'd check in after catching The Passion'."

"Oh, you mean your date with Angel." Both vampires scowl. "How was the movie?"

"He didn't suffer enough," Angel replies, stunning Fred and Wes.

"That has to be a first," Wesley notes.

"One bloody afternoon and he gets to go to Heaven," Spike gripes. "A few hours of pain. That's all. Cum on! He's supposed to be the bloody Messiah!"

"So there wasn't enough blood and gore?," Fred asks facetiously.

"There was. Matter of fact, it made me hungry," Spike confesses.

"At least we managed to kill three vampires," Angel reports.

"There were at the theater?," Wes wonders.

"Cheering," Angel replies.

"I told you we'd catch a few," Spike brags.

"No, I told you," Angel counters. "It was my idea."

"No it wusn't."

"Yes it was." Fred rolls her eyes at how immature these two can get. Just then, Gunn walks in.

"You sent for me?"

"Yes," Angel replies. "I looked over your list of honorees for this Tuesday."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no. But this Deborah Owen from Laguna Hills wouldn't happened to be Debbie the Vampire Slayer from Laguna Hills?"

"I thought you'd notice that. She's clearly earned it."

"Yes, the O.C. is nearly vampire-free," Wesley notes.

"Please don't call it that," Fred comments about Wesley's use of the cliched abbreviation which sounds very wrong coming out of his mouth.

"She's not the only one to thank," Spike says with a smile since he knows any allusion to Devlin will upset Angel. "By the way, aren't there enough awards shows in this town?," he jokes.

"Not for people who make the world a better place to live," Angel responds.

"So you give them a plaque or a piece of paper. What does that change?"

"Actually, we're giving money to volunteer organizations and college scholarships to kids who improve their community. I'm taking Wolfram & Hart's money and giving it to the forces of good. If that doesn't put a smile on your face, well, you just don't have a soul. Or you do, and you're not using it." Now Spike's the one scowling. Fred groans.

"Now I know what it's like to have two older brothers."

Down in the security office, Harmony's putting forth her plan. "Bottom of the harbor. Big freakin' castle. I mean, you can't miss it."

"How can you be sure we'll face no resistance?"

"If I'm wrong, you can stake me. If you're still alive. Which you will be, because the vampires are dead. And if one or two sneaks aboard, can't you take 'em down with all your tough guy gadgets? I thought you were, like, commandos or something." The insult to his manhood does the trick, and he makes a lame excuse.

"I was worried about it being booby-trapped. Maybe with some I.E.D.'s, like they use in Iraq. It's only a matter of time before vampires catch on to that."

"Especially with all those Slayers breathing down our necks." Harmony smiles. She doesn't know what I.E.D.'s are, but the thought of Buffy being brought down by some deadly new weapon warms her cold heart.

"We'll move at 2200. Make sure any friendlies are gone by then." Harmony appears confused. "Ten pm."

"Oh. No problem. The boat, or barge, or, whatever it is, will be yours."

"This is a real smart idea," the man says with a smile. "You could have a future at this firm."

"Thanks. And, by the way, if you're saying nice things to try to get in my pants, you're gonna have to try a lot harder." She walks out of the room, and literally bumps into Spike, who's walking in.

"What are you doing here on a weekend?," he asks.

"What am I doing here? I actually work here. Do you even, technically, have a job? Or are you just Angel's lackey?" She walks away. Spike grimaces with pain and pleasure.

"Someone's growing an attitude."

The night before, Devlin had taken Debbie's friends on a tour of the Excalibur so they could celebrate their string of victories. Sidney and Diego, Paul and Melanie, and Luiz and Danielle went straight for three of the dozens of rooms aboard, while Dev methodically searched the rest of the vessel for valuables he could fence. "So much for the glamor of vampire slaying," Debbie jokes.

"Nothing's free, babe."

"I thought you had plenty of money."

"I do. But I can always use more. The goal is to make more than you spend."

"And with all that moolah you gave to Harmony - "

"I'm going to make it back and then some. People paid to get on this ship. Those vampires had to store the money somewhere. Plus, there's a big generator on board lighting up this room and all the others. And there's the sound system in the ballroom. I can strip this baby good." Debbie doesn't like this side of Devlin. Ironically, neither did Spike.

"Everything's got dollar signs for you."

"Oh really. I'm losing money on you, Deb."

"Even with the occasional plunder?"

"There's the apartment for Sid and the gang. The walking around money I give your friends to compensate them for risking their lives. Not to mention all the dough I could make if I was out in the world - "

"Being evil?"

"I was going to say mercenary."

"So how much am I worth to you?," she half-jokes.

"Every penny."

"Then why the salvage job?"

"It's not like we'd be doing anything more fun."

"Is that all you think about?"

"Clearly not. I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Like I'd ever let you get away from me," she replies, affectionate and threatening at the same time. She grabs his chest from behind. Dev spins around.

"You think I'd leave? Deb, I'd die without you." They start to kiss, but Debbie pulls away.

"You've already died."

"I mean for good."

"Oh. Okay then." They start kissing again and find it hard to stop. This past week of abstinence has been difficult for the both of them. "But what about your job?," she asks. "Shouldn't you be stripping? The boat."

"It's not going anywhere." They resume kissing.

"Dinner was de-lish," Leks says to Dru. "And they say there's no good Canadian food."

"Pity I'll have no one to share awl this with."

"Take my slaves," Leks offers, pointing to the two hunks.

"They're for you." Elektra smiles and jumps up and down.

"You mean I can keep them?" Dru nods.

"You're the best mom in the whole universe." She runs over and hugs Dru. Then they kiss each other on each cheek.

"Now go, deary. You don't wont to miss your aeroplane."

"Time to bring back your boy," Elektra says with determination.

"Tell Dev oi said hoi. That should get his blood running." Leks smiles.

"The Hellmouth will be yours, mummy." Dru puts her right hand to Elektra's left cheek and smiles tenderly.

"Moi baby's awl grown up." Elektra smiles back and almost starts to cry. "Now hurry along. You don't have much toim." Elektra runs off, then turns round at the door.

"Luv you, mum. Thanks again for the slaves." Elektra rushes off into the early night. One of Dru's servant vamps pilots the boat back to Cleveland while Elektra has sadistic fun with her beefy supplicants. After three hours of this fun, they limp out of the boat with scratches and blisters under their clothes while Elektra glides down the dock, thoroughly refreshed. Mummy always knew how to cheer her up. Elektra quickly disappoints her boy toys by telling them to get lost, handing them a wad of cash and ordering them to find a nice place for her to live, warning there would be dire consequences if it's not up to her standards. She skips away, buoyed by the thrill of ordering others around. Elektra races across a six-lane street, dodging traffic, then sprints to the nearest parking lot. She waits a few minutes for the first man to emerge, snaps his neck when he's about to open his car door, takes his keys and zooms off to the airport to buy a first-class ticket for the red-eye to Los Angeles. It was time to make Devlin an offer he couldn't refuse.


	48. A Brand New Woman

Rona, Vi and Wood continued to search for Elektra. The search was not entirely fruitless, as it led them to discover the hangout of the eight remaining vampires in town. "You think she's holed up in a cave?," Vi skeptically asks Wood.

"Something's in this cave. Something demon, possibly vampire."

"How do you know?," Rona wonders. "You look inside?"

"A few of my sources fingered this place."

"You mean the demons who are scared of us?," Vi queries.

"Yes. Then I went to a few of my friends at the police department, and borrowed this." He shows them an object the size of a few bricks.

"What is it?," Rona asks.

"Couple pounds of C4. It should blast through the stone."

"Cool!," Vi exclaims.

"Were using explosives now?," Rona wonders, feeling that's a little beneath them.

"The demons said the vampires had defenses. Either I blow them up, or you'll have to break them down with sledgehammers."

"Okay," Vi responds. "I'm all for doing it the lazy way."

"Sure. But can we then find whoever it is that's snapping necks?," Rona requests, referring to Elektra's kill the previous night. The death confused them, since no one bit or drank from the body, as would be typical in a vampire killing. Robin was of the opinion that Elektra killed him to steal his car and flee Cleveland. Rona and Vi aren't so sure she's given up. As it would happen, they were all partially correct. Wood sticks the bomb on the ground between the rock and the wall. He retreats to a safe distance along with the Slayers, and presses the remote detonator. The explosion pulverizes both rocks, sending the outer one in all directions and the inner one into the cave, its shrapnel injuring all eight vampires, three seriously. The attack takes them completely by surprise. Never did they imagine their enemies using such weapons.

Rona and Vi take out their stakes and flashlights and rush towards the opening. But two alert vampires, one male and one female, pick up the two flamethrowers, ignite the "pilot" lights, step into the breach and pull the triggers just as Rona and Vi storm into the tunnel that leads to the cave. They see two small flames and can make out the outline of some sort of large, gun-like weapon. Thinking these are actual guns, since vampires in other parts of the country had shown themselves quite willing to use firearms against Slayers, they quickly retreat, only to be hit with streams of flame, causing them to leap outside and hit the deck, their clothes burnt and their hair singed. The vampires advance and spray their flames ten feet out of the cave, causing the Slayers to roll to each side.

"Holy shit!," Vi screams.

"What the fuck was that!?," Rona exclaims. The vampires alternate intermittent bursts, causing flames to shoot out ever every few seconds. The Slayers get the message and retreat behind the nearest mound. The vampires are momentarily elated before realizing they have no way of preventing the Slayers from returning and killing them in their sleep.

"Watch your language," Robin cautions, having never heard them cuss while on patrol.

"Sorry," Vi offers, "but we've never had the bad guys SHOOT FIRE at us!"

"We need grenades," Rona suggests. Vi smiles.

"Don't think the cops have any of those," Wood comments. "At least we got the enemy holed-up. Literally."

"Do I still have eyebrows?," Rona asks.

"You both look fine. I mean, you will, once you clean yourselves up." The Slayers nervously feel their faces to make sure. "The fact that they're resorting to these weapons shows how desperate they feel."

"I don't get it," Vi replies. "The other night they were so pumped-up. No they won't even show their faces."

"Maybe we intimidated them," Rona offers.

"Or their leader's really gone."

Early Wednesday morning, before the sunrise, Elektra arrives at LAX. She heads straight for the parking garage, where she lies in wait. Ten minutes later, a businessman in his late thirties walks to his car. Elektra approaches. "Excuse me, um, mister, I, uh, I need a ride. Could you be so kind as to give me one?," she asks with a polite smile.

"I'm not interested," he replies, assume she's some teenage prostitute trying to solicit business.

"I'm not selling anything," she replies, gently grabbing his left arm. "I just flew in from Cleveland, and I don't have money for a cab, and I need to get to - "

"Where are you going?," he asks dismissively, prepared to say he's heading in the opposite direction.

"That depends. Where are you going?" she asks while playing with his tie, causing him to pause for a few nervous seconds.

"I'm sorry, I can't help you."

"That's where you're wrong." She goes bumpy, bites and drains him, takes his wallet and keys and drives south, for her brother.

Devlin slams Debbie against the wall and kisses her neck as she moans. Suddenly, she pushes him away. "Don't you need to get back to work?," she asks.

"Give me fifteen minutes," he proposes, lunging towards her. Deb pushes him to the ground.

"That's all?," she jokes. "You in the mood to disappoint me?" Dev smirks and stands up.

"Well, at least you want me to live up to my previous standards."

"For me, it's all or nothing."

"That's what I say," Dev notes.

"Guess we're starting to merge," Deb replies. She grabs his right arm and pulls a grinning Dev out of the room. "Let's go find your treasure."

"This chair would be great in the den," Theo tells Cynthia.

"You mean in your basement? Wouldn't your parents notice?"

"I'll tell them I got it from Luiz and Paul."

"You mean my friends' college boyfriends," she says with a laugh. "It's amazing how clueless parents can be."

"I find it comforting. Since, with our lives, they have to be clueless. Can you imagine if they even knew a little bit about what we were up to?"

"So we hang out with vampires," Cynthia jokes. "And kill other vampires. And some of us — well, most of us — have sex with vampires."

"Many of us at this very minute."

"At least we're not doing drugs." They both chuckle. Theo puts his arms around his girlfriend and they rock back and forth. "Theo?," she asks, sounding more serious.

"Yeah Cynth."

"How will this end?"

"You mean, will we burn out or fade away?"

"Something tells me burn out."

"So you get to play the doom-and-gloom role tonight," he quips, since one of them's always trying to convince the other that their wild life is too good to be true.

"What if Mel and Danielle get sick of their vampire boyfriends, and wanna break up? Something tells me they won't take that too well."

"Did they tell you something? Cause to me they both looked far-from-sick when they dragged their guys off to those rooms."

"No, they're happy. For now. But eventually you get bored with every toy, no matter how many exciting features it has."

"I hate to tell you this, but they appear to have some emotional resonance with Luiz and Paul. You know, like they're human. Which at times they do seem to be."

"Fine, there's affection. But all relationships end. And I don't see how breaking up with a vampire can be anything but messy and/or deadly."

"This is really about Debbie, isn't it?"

"No. Of course not. She can defend herself." Theo picks up the chair.

"Things happen for a reason."

"What!? Debbie was destined to be a Vampire Slayer, and we were destined to help her, and a horde of friendly vampires was destined to help us?"

"Let me rephrase that. Things DON'T happen for a reason. But if they work out, we make up a reason at the end." He slowly walks down the hallway with his chair.

"And how does looting fit into this reason of yours?" Theo drops the chair and breathes heavily.

"The police get to sell cars and homes they take from drug dealers. This is just another wealth transfer from the bad guys to the good guys. On a very small scale. Now can you help me with this chair? I think I hurt my back dragging that sofa out." She laughs and helps him. After a few steps, they hear a man scream and drop the chair.

"Was that Devlin?," Cynthia asks.

"Guess he and Debbie are having a little fun."

"Gross Theo. No, I think he found the vampires' money."

"Something tells me you girls will be going on a shopping spree tomorrow." Theo thinks about this. "Money from people who chose to get bit by vampires ending up in the pockets of people who choose to sleep with vampires. It's an interesting little underground economy we're part of here."

Harmony sits in her apartment on Saturday night, wearing red leather pants and a sleeveless pink top, staring at one of the diamonds Devlin gave her, when she hears a knock at the door. She opens it. "Sidney!"

"Harmony!" They embrace. Diego enters with Sid. "Lookin' good."

"You too." Sidney wears a short dark blue dress with white leggings and white heels. Harmony gasps as she looks down. "Manolos?"

"You know it, girlfriend. Dev passed around some of the green he grabbed from that ship you helped us take over."

"He is so generous. Look what he gave me."

"Diamonds. Yeah, he gave me a couple rocks a while back."

"And we didn't even have to sleep with him!" They both laugh. Diego, looking sharp in a dark suit and a light blue button-down shirt, with his hair gelled up a little like Angel's, is weary of all this praise for Devlin. Sometimes it felt as if there was another guy in their relationship.

"You don't want to, do you?," he asks.

"Of course not!," she insists, grabbing his butt with her right hand. "Not unless you find someone else."

"Who's better than you? Not possible." Sidney smiles, buoyed by Diego's love for her. In a way, she's become dependent on that love, but is unable to reciprocate.

"You got lucky with this one," Harmony concedes.

"So, umm, you're going alone tonight? With us?"

"I'll find someone soon."

"Looking like that, it shouldn't be hard. You'd do her, right Devlin?" He's at a loss for how to respond, since one answer would offend Harmony and the other might offend his girlfriend.

"That depends. Are you interested?"

"Careful what you wish for," Sidney jokes.

"She's right. We have a threesome, and Sid could find out she likes me better." Diego's floored by the response to his flirtation. Sidney's delighted.

"Girlfriend you got attitude. I like!" She grabs Harmony's hand and takes her to the bedroom. "Girl stuff," she tells Diego. "We'll be right back."

"You better be," he half-jokes, checking his watch when Sidney closes the door. All this lesbian innuendo was both titillating and frightening.

"I'm guessing you're over Alex."

"So over."

"Got anyone new in mind? Or, old? What about Spike?"

"Do the words World's Worst Boyfriend' mean anything to you?"

"Right. He tried to stake you and is still in love with a Slayer. Two big no-no's."

"He's actually dating a human. Some art school girl."

"You're kidding! I didn't know that was his type."

"Everyone's going with humans. It's like this huge new fad."

"Tell me about it," Sidney responds with a smile.

"So. How's Diego?"

"I think he's in love with me," she whispers. "No, make that he thinks he's in love with me."

"What's not to love?" They both giggle.

"Hotties like you and me shouldn't toy with little boys' hearts."

"Is some growing a conscience?," Harmony wonders.

"No. No no no. I didn't mean that like — you know — I cared."

"It's okay to care."

"Do you? About a human?"

"I care about Fred."

"You DO have a boy!"

"No. Fred's a girl." Sid grins and raises her eyebrows. "It's not like that. Not even close. She works with me. And she was nice to me once. When she didn't have to be."

"And you don't think that meant anything?," Sidney asks mischievously. Harmony's stunned by the insinuation.

"She's straight. She's dating Wesley. And so am I. I mean, I'm also straight. But not dating Wesley. Who I'm not at all attracted to in any way. Either of them."

"You protest too much. Am I making you nervous?," Sid asks flirtatiously.

"You? No! Hey. Are you trying to hit on me?" Harmony steps back.

"Relax. I'm just having fun." Sidney puts her right hand to Harmony's cheek, freezing her. Then she leans in and kisses Harmony behind her right earlobe. She backs away, and Harmony shivers. "You like?"

"Umm, umm, can we go now, so I can find a man?"

"Or two or three," Sidney quips before taking Harmony's left hand in her right hand and walking out of the bedroom. Diego sees the two women and wonders what exactly is going on between them. Sidney puts her left arm around his waist and drops her hand into his back left pants pocket, ameliorating his concerns somewhat. The three of them stroll out into the night.

On Monday afternoon, a smiling Gunn walks up the Harmony's desk. "Great work." She puts down the phone to shake his hand.

"Thanks," she replies, wondering why he's congratulating her.

"That was a marvelous idea you had."

"Idea? Ohhh. You mean the castle-boat. Yeah. Just something that came to me."

"I should tell Angel. With you present."

"Really." She smiles, eager to be given laurels in front of the boss who ignores her. They enter his office.

"Gunn. Glad to see you. We have a few things I want to talk about. What's Harmony doing in here?"

"This woman, I mean, this vampire, just made this firm ninety thousand dollars."

"I did? Where's my cut?" Charles laughs. Harmony was being serious.

"What the hell are you talking about?," Angel wonders. Gunn shows him the picture.

"The Excalibur. A barge in San Diego Harbor that was abandoned more than a decade ago, which has recently housed a vampire nest. Thanks to Harmony's tip, our security forces took control of the ship on Saturday, killing all vampires aboard."

"Why wasn't I informed of this mission ahead of time?"

"It was out of the way, and seemed unworthy of your time. In fairness, I didn't know about it until this morning." The reason he wasn't told was because it was a fake raid, since the vampires were already dead. "That's when I learned about Harmony's brilliant idea." She beams.

"Harmony? Brilliant?"

"We purchased the barge from its owners for ten thousand dollars, then turned around and resold it to San Diego County for one dollar. They're going to park it on a pier and turn it into a rec center with sports and afterschool tutoring."

"That's nice. Very nice, for Harmony." When did she turn altruistic? "But I don't see how that makes us any money."

"In return, the state gave us a one hundred thousand dollar tax credit. Governor Arnold's big into afterschool programs. It's his pet project. I think he said a good word about our firm today in Sacramento."

"Interesting. A little too interesting," he adds, casting Harmony a suspicious glance while he thinks through all the esoteric things she'd have to know to come up with an idea like this.

"Do I get a raise?"

"No," Angel curtly replies.

"Can I at least get a thank you?"

"Harmony, thank you," he grudgingly says. "No get back to work." She leaves the room. Angel gets up from his desk and walks over to Gunn.

"You actually think she could pull something like that off?"

"She said some vampires bragged about their new digs, and she did a little research on the computer. She's typing up these legal documents every day. You figure some of that stuff's gotta stick."

Around 5:30, Spike walks towards Angel's office. "Spikey. What perfect timing," Harmony curiously tells him.

"What's this about? I wus talking a nap." Angel explains the situation.

"Yep. That's got Devlin's fingerprints all over it. So I guess you owe HIM those ninety thousand dollars." Angel glares. "Lighten up. He did us a favor."

"So he could rub our noses in it."

"You mean rub YOUR nose in it," Spike replies with a smile. Angel charges out of his office.

"Harmony. A few words, please."

"Sure," she says, cautiously standing up. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Are you Devlin's secret agent?"

"What?" Harmony laughs.

"Is he telling you what to do?"

"No. That's your job."

"Spike says you've been hanging with Devlin after work."

"What are you, my parents? Yes, I've spent time with Devlin. Killing vampires! Since when was that against the rules?" She's got Angel with that one, and she knows it. Spike grins, enjoying the spectacle of Harmony standing up to Angel. "What are you smiling about, tattle-tale? Guess you really are Angel's lackey."

"You've been working for Debbie?," Angel asks. Harmony scowls.

"We've been on the same side. I've learned my lesson about Slayers. Angel, why are you so upset? I thought you'd be happy I was fighting against the bad guys. I know you won't let me help you, but what's wrong with me doing it on my own time?," she asks, implying she turned to Devlin because Angel ignored her.

"Did he tell you to do this real estate deal?"

"It's a boat," Spike blurts out. "Is that real estate?," he impishly asks.

"We talked about what to do with the thing once we'd dusted the vampires. Oh, and just so you know, I killed their leader. All by myself."

"That's wonderful, Harmony," Angel says with an I-could-care-less sigh. "But once again, we have the problem of you doing Devlin's bidding inside this firm."

"We came up with a good idea. I mentioned it to someone. You made money. Where's the harm?"

"Oooh. She's punning," Spike notes. Just then, a tall, superbly dressed, black-haired man exits the elevator. Harmony smiles and runs over.

"Colin!" They embrace and kiss. Spike can't believe his eyes. "This is Colin. My boyfriend! He's an international lawyer."

"At Schultz, Wyman, Collins and Goldberg," he says with an English accent. "Perhaps you've heard of us." Angel hadn't. Colin was assuming Angel's a lawyer. "Well, I'm sure Charles Gunn has. Do you know him?," he asks condescendingly.

"Know him? I've been his boss for four years. Did he introduce you two?," Angel asks. praying that's not the case. Harmony laughs.

"Oh no," Colin replies. "We met at a night club. She was dancing with her friends and I couldn't take my eyes off her." Harmony gazes up at Colin, then gives jealous Spike a satisfied glance. He rolls his eyes. "Are you ready to go, love?"

"You bet." She ostentatiously kisses him again, and they leave arm-in-arm.

"Did you see the way they were carrying on?," Spike gripes once they're all alone. "This is a place of business. Get a bloody room?"

"Isn't that what you two did?," Angel asks, referring to when Spike got his body back. "Is someone jealous?"

"Jealous? Piffle. I have Claire. Who by the way is a much better girlfriend than Harmony ever was."

"But it hurts. Seeing her with someone knew."

"That pansy? I feel sorry for the girl."

"An international lawyer. He must meet some interesting, well-educated people. And yet here he is, with Harmony."

"You think he knows she's a vampire?"

"Wait. You think that's his thing?"

"No. If that were his thing, he'd probably woulda died before they even met. I just wonder if he's found out. That's not the sort of secret you can keep for very long. Especially when you're shagging. Do you think they're shagging? Maybe they haven't yet."

"Yeah. You're jealous."

"Bollocks! I just don't like the way she paraded him in front of me, like she wus trying to make some point."

"She was."

"Remind me again why I'm talking to you."

"Good question." Angel walks back into his office.


	49. Slayers & the men who love them

Dev crashes the awards presentation where Angel planned to suck up to Dev. And in Japan, three of Buffy's Slayers battle three powerful vampires in a brutal and picturesque fight to the death.

Inside a large two-story tea house in Osaka, Japan, Hoshiko, a large man in his mid-thirties dressed like a samauri, sits with his son, Goro, a bulky man in his mid-twenties, on his right, and his daughter Manzo, a pale, petite woman in her early twenties, on his left. The men are each being attended to by a pair of geishas, as Manzo is catered to by a trio of well-built men whose chiseled physiques are visible beneath their skimpy robes. They daintily drink blood and saki from tea cups while an older man walks around them reading poetry. At one hundred and fifty years, Hoshiko is the oldest surviving member of the Akakawa, or Red River, clan of vampires. The clan originated during the civil wars of the sixteenth century, but hit on hard times during the peaceful Tokagawa Period, when thousands of samauri, unable to fight each other, spent their time hunting and beheading vampires. Hoshiko had helped revive them, and hold off challenges from foreign vampires who entered the newly reopened kingdom during the Meiji Restoration. His Master and sire had told him about how tough things were in the old days. Hoshiko thought the old man was exaggerating. If they were so bad, how did he survive? In 1945, the Master barely escaped the firebombing of Tokyo and fled south to Hiroshima, which he assumed would be a less likely target than Osaka, where Hoshiko hid out. Ever since, Hoshiko had regarded Osaka as a safe place of refuge. He'd survived General Douglas MacArthur. What did he have to fear from this Buffy girl?

Standing guard outside, to the left of the front door, is a human member of the Yakuza holding a sub-machine gun. To the right of the door stands a vampire. He thinks he hears noises behind some nearby shrubs. The human puts his finger to the trigger, then gets hit in the left side of the neck with a dart and slumps to the ground. The vampire gets nervous and listens to the footsteps, realizing, to his relief, that their is only one attacker. He reaches down to grab the gangster's gun with his left hand, but gets his head chopped off by an unseen enemy. The head flies through a window and lands on the floor of the tea house, terrifying the vampires on the first floor before it disintegrates. The front door is battered down, and in walks a sixteen year-old girl with orange pigtails, wearing a short green plaid skirt, white boots and a white long-sleeve button-down shirt. She has a scar on her right cheek. In her right hand is a three foot-long samauri sword, and in her left the wooden scabbard which has been filed down to a point. "Hello Hoshiko," she says, looking up towards the back of the room. He stands and smiles.

"You remembered me, Aneko," he replies with a smile. "Then again, how could you forget?," he adds, running the flat side of his sword along his right cheek to remind her of how she got that scar. "Finish her," he calmy orders, turning his back to the Slayer and walking away as if she's nothing special. Manzo stands along the edge of the railing, looking down eagerly as Aneko repels her first four attackers with a series of acrobatic kicks. Goro, looking concerned, retreats to talk to his apparently disinterested father.

"The three of us can finish her now!," he argues.

"She's not alone."

"All the more reason to attack this instant."

"Now would be too late." He looks upwards. "They have fast little cat feet." After having used ropes to climb on the roof, Haru and Yumiko swing through second-floor windows along the side of the building. Both are seventeen, though each is less experienced than the younger Aneko by about six months. Each is dressed in basic form-fitting black, unlike the flashier, cartoonish Aneko. Goro runs after Haru while Manzo tries to grab Yumiko, to their father's consternation. The Slayers leap over the railings, do a flip and land on the first floor, making the fight down there six on three. Hoshiko barks for his children to return to him. Yumiko is attacked by a vampire wielding a niginata, a six foot-long wooden pole with a curved two foot-long blade on the end. She quickly backs up, then uses her sword defensively. He's aggressive and skilled, backing her up nearly to the wall. She manages to lock blades with him, but he uses his superior leverage to pin her against the wall. Yumiko spits out the holy water she had put in her mouth before the fight, blinding the vampire, who stabs forward. She ducks, the niginata slices into the wall, Yumiko steps forward and beheads her opponent, grabbing his weapon and putting her own in the scabbard across her back.

Yumiko then comes to the aide of Aneko, who is being triple-teamed. First, Aneko leaped up to the balcony, only to be attacked by Hoshiko, Goro and Manzo. Aneko had no choice but to leap down – away from her original attackers, of course. As they pursued, she fled to the back wall so as not to be surrounded. Now, just as she ran out of room, Yumiko beheads the vampire to Aneko's right with the niginata, spins and beheads the vampire in front of her – snipping a lock of Aneko's hair and nearly cutting her right ear on the follow through. She skewers the vampire to her right, picking up her weapon like a spear and hurling it – and the vampire – into the side wall. Aneko half-smiles in appreciation, pointing to her hair, leaps to her right and kicks the back of the niginata, driving the wooden shaft into its heart and dusting it.

On the other side of the room, Haru hides from her two opponents behind one of the wooden posts holding up the balcony. When one of them tries to get behind her, she runs behind another post. After dodging a few slices, she runs the other way, towards the front door and away from the other two Slayers. Haru looks across the room at Aneko, who calmy twirls her chewing gum around her right index finger, as if to tell Haru she can handle these guys. Haru takes her scabbard in her left hand so she has two weapons. When the vampire to her left raises his sword and charges on in, she throws her wooden scabbard through his heart, then engages the other vampire with her sword. It doesn't take long for her to parry his attacks, get behind the vampire and behead him. She picks up her scabbard and walks to the middle of the room to meet up with the other two girls. There is no sign of the vampires they came to kill. Then Aneko looks to the dark ceiling thirty feet above, and sees the black-clad Hoshiko hiding there with his two children. The three vampires fall to the ground, their swords outstretched before them. Aneko leaps back to avoid Hoshiko, whose sword cuts through the floor. Haru gets knocked down by a flip kick to the head from Manzo. While trying to block Goro's sword with her niginata, Yumiko gets the metal blade chopped off, leaving her with a four foot wooden stick.

"Feeling weary, Aneko?," Hoshiko asks the panting Slayer as he charges in. She blocks three slashes before counterattacking. He parries, resumes the attack, and is rebuffed once again. Hoshiko backs away from Aneko's straight right kick, and she backs away from a right roundhouse kick.

"Don't worry. I'll have enough breath left to kill you." He goes bumpy, yells and swings down for her head. She blocks and tries an unsuccessful slash for his left hip. Aneko leaps forward and attacks Hoshiko from above. He blocks it, she flips and lands behind him.

"It's almost a shame I have to kill you," he says with a smile. Aneko rolls her eyes, realizing that after multiple fights to the death, the vampire starts to feel attached to the Slayer.

Devlin walks down a Los Angeles street on Tuesday afternoon wearing a black pinstriped suit with a blue shirt, yellow tie and white collar. On this sunny day, he carries an open umbrella in his left hand. In his right hand is a briefcase. Debbie, who wears a short brown skirt, white stockings and a red silk blouse, puts her left arm around his right. "Don't they have a garage?," she asks. "You know, that's covered?"

"Yes, but that would leave my car next to evil people who could do evil things to it."

"You'll let me near these people, but not your car?"

"The Mustang can't defend itself."

"I just get worried, ya know. One gust of wind and . . . that's why you parked on the street! So I'd worry about you, and remind myself that I worry cause I love you."

"Am I really that devious?"

"I think you know the answer to that one." They enter the lobby. Dev closes his umbrella. Debbie shows the security guard her pass. Devlin shows him his. He looks Dev over.

"Yes, I'm a vampire. Deal with it. For Christsakes, you work for one."

"He's my pet," Debbie jokes, opening her purse, taking out a small stake and jabbing Dev with it.

"We're like pot-bellied pigs, except we eat less and clean up after ourselves," Dev quips. The guard rolls his eyes and lets them pass. Dev tosses his umbrella to Deb, who catches it in her left hand. She takes his left hand in her right hand and they walk to the elevators.

"This thing's heavy."

"It better be. There's a gun and a large knife inside."

"Maybe you should be carrying it." They get in the elevator with six other people. She pushes the button for the sixteenth floor.

"Just point it at the ground," he whispers. "Oh, and don't press that lever you have your finger on."

"Why do you have to make everything so dangerous?"

"The world's a dangerous place."

"Yeah, and you helped make it a little more so."

"Until you came along." She squeezes his hand and smiles. The door opens and they walk out, following the signs to the gathering. Devlin scans the crowd. "The world would be a better place if do-gooders weren't so boring. I think it discourages people from making a difference."

"You promised you'd behave."

"I am. I haven't killed anybody yet."

"Can't I hold you to a higher standard?"

"I thought you liked my antisocial rebelliousness?"

"Said by the man dressed like a banker," she retorts.

"I love a woman who knows how to cut me down to size." They stare at each other for a few seconds, then let go of each other's hands. Debbie tries to mingle. Devlin lurks around the edges, listening in on conversations.

"I've been looking forward to this all week," Angel says to Gunn, Wes and Fred as they exit the elevator.

"It's Tuesday," Gunn notes.

"And all last week."

"I think it's nice that Wolfram & Hart lets all these good people into their building and doesn't try to execute them," Fred offers. "They're not gonna, right?"

"I think I put out a memo on that," Wes jokes. Angel enters the room, shaking hands and introducing himself while keeping an eye out for the Slayer. She spots him and walks over.

"Do you own all this?," she asks.

"I don't own any of it. But I run all of it."

"Wow. And you didn't even go to college." He laughs.

"It's great to see you again, Debbie. You look very nice." He'd never seen her dressed up before.

"No, she looks beautiful," Dev whispers. Angel turns around. His jaw grinds in anger. "Is that any way to greet an ally?" Angel resists the urge to rip Devlin's neck off. He looks at Debbie.

"I don't have a car. Plus, half the award's his." Angel shakes his head, grabs Gunn and walks to a corner.

"Winifred. Good to see you again," Devlin says. Debbie walks over to her boyfriend.

"Remember, be nice. No gloating," she whispers.

"You can stop me from killing. But gloating? That's against my nature." She scowls. "Okay, I'll try."

"You can do better than try."

"I promise I won't start any fights." She smiles, rolls her eyes and goes off to mingle, trusting that Dev won't want to disappoint her. He walks up to Fred, causing Wesley to sidle up next to her. "You're being protective. That tells me two things. One, you're an extraordinarily lucky man, since you're dating this fine creature. And two, you don't understand that she can protect herself. Or, perhaps you do understand, but want to appear macho." Dev holds out his right hand. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. You're Wesley, I presume." They'd met when Dev helped Angel nab the werewolf kidnapper, but didn't interact much.

"And you're quite talkative for a vampire." Wes doesn't shake Dev's hand.

"How chilly. It's almost like I've done something to hurt you. Have I?" They stare at each other.

"So how's the slaying goin', Dev?," Fred asks, trying to play peacemaker and avoid an ugly scene. Devlin smiles at her.

"Excellent, Winifred. Debbie and I have destroyed all vampire packs south of the Los Angeles county line. There are still isolated individual vampires, but nothing organized." He puts his briefcase on a table and opens it. "I've used my experiences to create a monograph on vampire fighting. Strategy, tactics and such." He pulls out two leather-bound one hundred page volumes and hands them out. "I also brought copies for Angel and Charles Gunn. Maybe you can tell me how they match up to your manual, based on your even more extensive experiences." He knows they don't have such a manual, hence the obnoxiousness.

"Thanks," Fred says before Wesley can throw his copy on the floor and shoot it with his revolver. "Ah'm sure the security people would be happy to look it over."

"Who cares about them. It's your opinions I value. Is my father around?" Wesley's thrown by the terminology.

"Spike's in the building. Ah don't know if he's coming here."

"He will. Now that I'm here." Dev closes his briefcase and walks away.

"I'd hate him so much less if he'd just come right out and try to kill us," Wesley declares.

"I think it's nice the way he wants Spike's approval." Wes looks shocked. "Okay, he's a conceited little brat. But better a vampire-killer than a killer vampire."

Angel gets off the phone with the guy at the front desk. "He says he had a ticket. How did he get a ticket?," Angel angrily asks Gunn.

"The award winners were allowed to bring family members."

"She doesn't have any family!"

"Which is why I sent her only one ticket. He could have found out who the other guests were and wrangled a spare ticket from one of them."

"So someone in your organization gave him that information?"

"I don't know. Maybe he hacked into our computers like he did before. I think you're making too much of this."

"This was supposed to be her moment. Not his."

"If he bothers you so much much, why don't you ignore him?"

"Because I'm standing right here." Gunn looks to his right. Dev smiles. "Charles Gunn. Your reputation precedes you. Vampires speak highly of you. By which I mean they curse your name, much as they curse your boss's. Sorry. No pun intended," he adds about the "curse" remark. "I hope we can all get along here for a little while. For Debbie's sake. It's what she wants. It's what she deserves."

"Are you what she deserves?," Angel asks.

"I believe she's the judge of that." He opens the briefcase and hands them the books. "It's my screenplay. Just kidding. It's what I've learned about vampire slaying. From Debbie. I'd greatly value your professional opinions. Granted, Laguna Hills isn't Watts or Sunnydale, but I like to think I have a few original insights. It was a pleasure talking with you. Or, should I say, it was a pleasure talk to you." He leaves. Angel seethes over the nerve of Devlin to dare to take the high road.

"Someone needs to teach that boy some humility," Gunn offers. "Preferably with a tire iron and a few brass knuckles. Angel smiles.

Deprived of the business end of her weapon, Yumiko tries to impale Goro, who backs up and cuts her stick twice, reducing it to a stump. She ditches what's left of the weapon and does a forward roll as he swings for her neck. She takes out her sword as she gets up and clashes weapons with the bulky, powerful vampire. He goes bumpy and pushes back into a wooden post, shattering it. Part of the second level falls on her, and she goes down as Goro steps out of the way, smiling.

Manzo goes on the offensive, alternating between slashes towards Haru's neck and legs to keep the Slayer off-balance. She leaps in the air, does a flip above Haru, lands and swings for her ankles. Haru spins, hops above the attack and swings downward for Manzo's head. The vampire blocks this and sweeps Haru's legs, knocking her down. Haru rolls back and gets up before Manzo can do any damage with her sword, but takes a leaping kick to the chest which almost puts her on her back again. Haru takes her scabbard in her left hand. Manzo chops this second weapon in half while ducking Haru's attempt to cut Manzo's head off with the sword in her right hand. Manzo adds a quick left kick to Haru's chin, forces the Slayer to backpedal with a renewed sword attack, then knocks Haru down with a right roundhouse kick. Things were not looking good for this Slayer.

Aneko is the only one holding her own. She kicks Hoshiko back towards the stairs. They lock swords, and he hurls her onto the stairs and pursues. She climbs most of the way up. Hoshiko follows, knocking down six stairs behind him before jumping back, creating a sizeable gap between vampire and Slayer. He waits for her to make the next move. She worries about him severing the staircase, causing it to collapse beneath her feet. Aneko leaps up to the second level and heads to her right, daring Hoshiko to jump up and follow her. Instead, he patiently watches as Manzo's three strapping servants attack the Slayer. Aneko can tell they are human, creating a problem for her. She puts her sword away and takes a right cross, knocking her into the railing. Aneko then gets down to business, putting one guy on his back with a straight right kick, another with a right roundhouse kick, ducks a right hook and takes the final man out with a left hook kick. Just then, she hears something crack. Hoshiko has split the wooden post below her in two with a swift right kick. She climbs onto the railing and leaps off just as the floor collapses, dragging down the three men. Hoshiko, who expected this, leaps through the air and hits Aneko's body in midair with a straight right kick, sending her crashing into another post, splitting it in two and causing another section floor to collapse on top of her. As she tries to get up. He hits her face with a left hook, picks her up and tosses Aneko into the wall. She gets up and coughs a few times. Dust covers her hair and clothes.

"I don't get it," she tells him. "If you're so sure you can beat me, why destroy your house?" It does seem a little desperate.

"A broken house can be rebuilt. A broken body cannot." He knocks her down with a powerful right hook.

No sooner does Yumiko stand up than she is knocked down by a right kick. Goro moved in to hit her while she's down, but Yumiko brandished her sword, warning him off. He lets her get up, then attacks. They lock swords, and he pushes her into the wall. "Back against the wall," she says. "Now's the time for you to get really worried." She head-butts him, lands a straight right kick to his face, then a left roundhouse kick, knocking him back towards the center of the room.

Not doing well, Haru puts her sword in her belt. Manzo watches and waits, looking suspicious. "It's not a trick," the Slayer assures her. "I just don't find you threatening." Manzo leaps at Haru, slashing her sword in midair. Haru quickly backs up. When Manzo pursues, she leaps twenty feet back. When Manzo leaps twenty feet forward, she hops ten feet to her right, runs forward onto a debris pile and picks up a five foot-long section of a wooden four-by-four, which she uses to knock her charging opponent to the ground, then hits her one more time in the head for good measure before dropping the weapon and taking up her sword. The woozy vampire stands up, sword at her side, only to get kicked in the chest.

Hoshiko makes use of his advantage in size to keep Aneko on the defensive during their sword fight. He lands a right roundhouse kick. They clash swords a few more times, and she tries a straight right kick that he backs away from. When she attacks, he parries her sword and lands a right hook kick, opening a cut on her left temple. Her nose is bleeding, and her clothes are torn and her arms scratched from having a floor fall on her. Not one to be kept down, Aneko leaps in the air, does a flip and slashes for Hoshiko's head. He deftly ducks, slides forward, stands up just after she passes over his head and thrusts his sword into the air. When Aneko lands, she realizes it entered her back and came out her stomach. Hoshiko smiles, sensing victory.

Spike races into the room while Angel introduces the award winners. "What the bloody hell's going on?"

"Shhh," Fred replies as several startled spectators look back at them. Spike looks around and quickly spots Devlin, who smiles when they lock eyes.

"Is Angel giving Dev a bloody trophy?," Spike asks incredulously.

"No. Just his girlfriend."

"Buying her loyalty."

"Nobody is being bought," Wesley insists.

"Actually, she gets a $5,000 college scholarship," Gunn points out.

"As do the other honorees," Wes responds.

Spike looks at the program. "Unbloodybelieveable. He's honoring all these nobodies so he can woo a Slayer and make it look legit. The lengths Angel will go for one of those girls."

After the ceremony, the people eat from the buffet and mingle. Devlin approaches Spike. "Not much to eat here for the likes of us. Unless you like Good Samaritan," he jokes, as if Spike needed a reminder that Devlin could go back to his old ways at any moment.

"And no liquor."

"Angel strikes me as a teetotaler. Have you seen my book on vampire slaying? I gave a copy to Winifred and the others."

"Who needs a book? You stab them with wood, and they turn to dust."

"The actual slaying is easy. It's finding them that's the challenge. Have you heard about my success? Vampires are more afraid of Debbie than they are of Angel." It's clear Devlin is desperately fishing for a compliment.

"That's not much of an achievement, now is it?" Devlin's disappointment turns to anger.

"Elektra said you had a new woman in your life. Good to see you're moving on from Buffy. Who is she? Does she work in the building?"

"What makes you so sure there's only one?," Spike replies, worried about Devlin tracking down Claire, as be consistent with his obsessive personality.

"You're not the man you used to be."

"Neither are you."

"That's true. I've gotten better. Stronger. Smarter. You've withered into a shell of your former self. You don't even control your own destiny. You're just a part of someone else's." Debbie walks up and takes Devlin's right hand in her left.

"That sounded rude. I thought we talked about not being rude."

"I'm only being rude to Spike."

"Oh. That's okay." She kisses Dev's hand, smiles at him and walks away. Dev watches her.

"Wut does your pet have against me?," Spike asks defensively. "Or are you her pet?"

"You never approved of any of my girlfriends. So why should you be shocked when one of them doesn't approve of you?"

"What did I ever do to her?"

"You made me."

"Shouldn't she thank me for that?"

"Since Deb loves me, her feelings on my getting sired are mixed. You figure it out. You're the one with a soul."

Goro gets Yumiko off-balance. When she raises her sword to protect her throat, he stabs for her stomach. She flinches, unconsciously hunching over and raising her left leg. The blade passes through her left thigh instead of her abdomen. While it's stuck there, she grimaces and swings her sword, cutting off Goro's right hand. He screams and backs up. She limps towards him, the vampire's weapon still in her leg. "Want it back?," she asks. Yumiko pulls it out of her leg and throws it through his left shin, cutting off the lower third of his leg. He growls and leaps at her off his right foot in desperation. She cuts off his head. "Baby," she says of his inability to handle a few flesh wounds. Yumiko stands there, hunched over on her one good leg, watching Haru and Aneko. If things go badly for either of them, Yumiko will be very easy prey.

"What about Scientologists?," Devlin asks a teenage boy who works for an evangelical charity.

"What?"

"If the government gives funds to one religious organization, it has to give money to them all. Constitutionally, it can't discriminate."

"I suppose if the Scientologists have, I don't know, a drug treatment program, then they should get money for that."

"So you give them junkies going through withdrawal – the very definition of desperate and impressionable – and you don't expect them to proselytize. How could they pass up the opportunity?"

"I can't speak for other religions. In volunteer work at my church, we don't force Jesus on anybody."

"That makes two of us," Dev replies with a wicked smile. "Or how about the Nation of Islam? Should Congress give money to Louis Farrakhan?" A black man with a white skull cap steps to Dev.

"You got a problem with black Muslims?"

"Of course not. As I'm sure you're aware, fewer than ten percent of black Muslims in America follow Farrakhan, and he's not even close to an orthodox Muslim. But the white media turns him into the symbol of black Muslims in order to discredit them."

"What are you, mister-know-it-all?"

"I don't know it all. Just enough. I have a long interest in Islam. It's a simple, pure, iconoclastic religion, without idols or holy water or that other hocus pocus. Just God. And beautiful poetry." He starts saying in Arabic "In the name of Allah, the compassionate, the merciful" and recites the first four line of the Koran. The guy gets freaked out and moves away. "Not that I don't believe in Jesus," he assures the teenager. "I know he exists. He's touched me."

"You're born again?"

"My sophomore year in college," Dev replies. "By the way, I'm a friend of a friend of Angel's. He's a lapsed Catholic looking for a new path. Maybe you can give him a copy of the Good Book. I think he'd really appreciate it."

"Maybe you could give it to him, since you claim to know him."

"You're right. I'll do that tomorrow. Praise Christ." Devlin smiles politely and walks away. It would have been great for Angel to yelp in pain and drop a Bible like it's a hot iron in front of all these people. What would they think? But as he walks over to Deb, who is talking to Angel, he realizes such a prank would have rubbed her the wrong way.

"I'd love to have you go on patrols with me," Angel says to Debbie. "Now that things have calmed down where you are."

"You patrol?"

"Not much anymore. I'm too busy with work. But I could start again."

"What about Spike?," Devlin asks. "He must have plenty of time on his hands."

"So do you."

"That's true. Maybe I can find an evil corporation of my own to run in my spare time. Say, DeBeer's."

"You and diamonds."

"Or Halliburton. Did you know I was once briefly on their payroll?"

"Let me guess: as a mercenary," Angel replies. "Do you always sell your services to the highest bidder?"

"No. Otherwise I'd be working for your firm. It's not as if they haven't made me offers. I guess once you've co-opted one vampire champion, you think you can co-opt them all."

"You? A champion?" Angel laughs. Debbie frowns. Angel stops laughing, realizing that he's playing into Dev's trap. "I just meant he shouldn't take any credit away from the real champion," he weakly adds, referring to Debbie. But Dev can't leave well enough alone, and has to go for a dig.

"While we're flaunting our ability to defend people, I should point out there's been an uptick in suspicious deaths in Ventura County this week. That's north of here, which puts it in your jurisdiction as opposed to mine. But I'm sure you're already looking into it, as would befit your role as champion of people."

"Oh look. Most of the people have left. Maybe we should get going." She takes Dev's hand. "Thanks," she says to Angel while walking out before he could come up with a comeback. Wesley walks up to Angel.

"Is there a problem?"

"She doesn't need him."

"Professionally, or personally?" Angel takes a few seconds to answer.

"Both."

"And you plan to fulfill both needs for her?" Angel cringes.

"That's not what I meant."

"You've shown her she's not alone. You've done your best to convince her of your noble intentions. There's nothing more you can do."

"Except wait."

"And hope." Hope Dev doesn't kill her. Hope Buffy doesn't send another Slayer Corps to abduct her. Hope she doesn't go completely rogue, take off with Devlin and leave Angel forever.

Deb and Dev walk out into the night. He twirls his closed umbrella in his left hand. "The party's over, and you're still making me nervous," she says, knowing a slip of his fingers could cause the umbrella to spew bullets at innocent bystanders. He stops spinning and grips the middle of the umbrella. "That's better." She puts her left arm around his waist. "You did good tonight. Not great. But good."

"It was fun. And not entirely in an ironic way. It's nice to see you honored." In her right hand, she holds the plaque and the certificate Angel gave her.

"Although some of the other people seemed confused about what it was I exactly did."

"Probably because you couldn't exactly explain what it is you do."

"Remember, even I didn't know what I did until I met you."

"Don't look so grateful. I did have my selfish reasons for training you."

"If only every every guy had to save dozens of lies before he could get laid," she jokes. He puts his right arm around her shoulders. The walk in pleasant silence for a few seconds, savoring the moment. "This is our first time in LA. We've been Aspen, but not Los Angeles."

"LA doesn't have snow. Or quaint yet expensive little cabins."

"We should stay. Check it out."

"LA's not the kind of city you check out. New York has lots of people on the streets and interesting stuff you can walk to. Here everyone drives everywhere."

"So let's drive. And see what we can find."

"Don't you have homework?"

"I always have homework. I'm not always in LA with you. And the night's still, like, really young. Especially by your standards."

"Very well. Who am I to disappoint you? And this city is best when viewed at forty miles-an-hour."

With Manzo down, Haru goes for the kill. But Manzo blocks the sword and sweeps Haru's legs. The two of them get up and Haru retreats over the rubble. Manzo spins and swings her sword into Haru's right shoulder. Manzo raises her sword to finish the Slayer off. But a growling Haru drives her sword down between the vampire's right shoulder and neck, leaving a six inch-long cut and a drooping arm. Both fighters take their swords in their left hands and swing for the opponent's neck. Haru wins, beheading Manzo and cheating death by less than two inches and a few hundredths of a second.

Hoshiko kicks Aneko in her stomach wound. She cries out in pain. He goes for another stab and she takes several quick steps back. He holds his ground and notices that his children are gone. On the other hand, all the Slayers look like easy pray. He could become the first vampire to kill three Slayers at the same time. Yumiko and Haru both call out to the badly injured Aneko that they've won, and she should retreat so they can regroup and attack as a team. "What help will you be?," Hoshiko asks back. He points with his sword to Yumiko. "You can barely stand." He points to Haru. "You can barely hold a weapon." Then he points straight ahead to Aneko. "And you. You are barely alive."

"Maybe. But that's more alive that you," she replies with determination before charging in heedlessly. He blocks her sword and trips Aneko up. While she's on her back, he tries to finish her off. But once he gets within range, she slices his left achilles tendon.

"Fool," she boasts, using all her energy to rise to her feet.

"Clever girl," he replies with a smile, limping towards her. "But never clever enough." He swings down for her chest. She blocks it, but is staggered by the force of the blow. He goes for a stab, causing her to backtrack and lose her balance. Planting his right foot, he lands a left kick to her stomach. She cries out again in pain, but stays on her feet. He runs his left thumb up his blade and tastes her blood. Haru starts to walk towards Hoshiko from behind.

"No!," Aneko yells out, not wanting another Slayer to die to save her. She lifts her left leg and pulls a small stake out of her boot while holding her sword in her right hand. Hoshiko laughs.

"You're going to kill me with that?" He doesn't notice that the stake appears to be made of two kinds of wood.

"Yeah." He takes his sword in his left hand and attacks. She blocks his swing and stabs for his heart with her stake. Hoshiko grabs her left wrist with his right hand and tosses the petite Slayer behind him. She rolls along the ground and slowly gets up, leaving a trail of blood, but still holding on to her weapons. He leaps at her off his right leg, sword outstretched. Aneko tosses the stake in the air. The bottom half is made of cork, but the top half is ash. She sticks her sword up, catching the cork, then stabs forward. The stake gives her just enough length to outreach Hoshiko's sword and stake him before he can stab her. He looks down, realizes he's doomed, and glares at a smiling Aneko, blood dribbling from her lips. He screams in agony before disintegrating. Aneko drops her weapons and falls to the ground, her white shirt soaked in blood. Haru kneels over her, and Yumiko limps over.

Manzo's three male servants stand in the rubble by the door, watching. The ferocious Slayers had terrorized them. They thought once their masters were dead, they would be next. But now they appeared so fragile. Such sublime contrasts. They couldn't help but want to help.


	50. Death in the afternoon, then dancing

Buffy and the vampires consider their respective next moves in Japan. A flashback to show how Spike and Dru raised their children. Elektra spies on Debbie at her high school. And Buffy discovers that Angel is bestowing awards on her enemy.

"I'm worried about Aneko and the others," Buffy says to Giles.

"They should be healed by the start of next week."

"I'm talking about the new men' in their lives."

"The servants."

"You mean slaves," Dawn adds. "I don't think they pay them. And I'm sure the vampires didn't."

"What exactly do these men do for the Slayers?," Xander asks.

"I don't think they sleep with them," Gretchen offers. "At least I hope they don't."

"Why not?," Dawn counters. "After all, they're human." Giles doesn't like where this is going.

"At the moment, Aneko, Haru and Yumiko can use someone to look after and care for them. Once they're back on their feet," Dawn grins at the unintentional sexual innuendo, causing Giles to scowl. "I'm sure they'll send these gentlemen they liberated on their way."

"I don't get it," Buffy declares. "What kind of man chooses to become a slave?"

"To a Slayer?," Xander responds, causing Buffy to roll her eyes.

"And what kind of Slayer wants a guy around who's willing to be so, submissive?"

"Aneko was always a little odd," Gretchen points out. "Even before she became a Slayer."

"No she's not," Buffy retorts. "At least not in a bad way. Aneko reminds me of me when I was that age." Giles, Xander and Dawn stare at her. "As a Slayer. She's clever, she's resourceful, she's original. That's how she took down this Red Rum clan."

"Red River," Giles corrects.

"She and the others won because they were disciplined," Gretchen argues. "And they were disciplined because they had an enemy to fear. With that enemy gone, there's a temptation to become complacent and indulgent. That's why these servants' are worrisome." Giles nods and smiles. Like her older brother, Gretchen's great at putting things in perspective. "The first sign of Slayer decadence is a pattern of treating men as sexual objects. Isn't that right, Rupert?"

"Uh, er, yes," he stammers, not eager to think about, much less discuss, any Slayer's sex lives.

"You mean like Faith?," Buffy asks, causing Xander to feel uncomfortable.

"Where is she these days?," Dawn asks. "Not that I'm eager to see her."

"Possibly in a country without an extradition treaty with the U.S.," Gretchen the diplomat jokes. "Although I don't know how much fun she could have in Libya, North Korea or Iran."

"Willow said she was contacted by Faith a month ago," Giles reports. "I assume she's still in South America. Unless she decides to pay Robin another visit in Cleveland."

"Doesn't look like Rona and Vi need her help," Buffy comments. "Faith may be on the run, but she's not nearly as hounded as the vamps we're hunting down."

Toshiro sits on the floor of a small, unfurnished basement apartment on the outskirts of Tokyo, reading a newspaper. He hears a knock at the door. "Come in," he says. Yukio enters.

"How did you know I wasn't the Slayers?"

"They wouldn't knock."

"So this is what you've been reduced to."

"Living in luxury only attracts attention."

"What happened to your band? Have they already been killed?"

"I set them free. Told each of them to set up their own colony to distract our enemies and keep them busy."

"You're afraid to fight."

"Without the right men at my side? Yes."

"Then join me and my band. We'll have six against three."

"You mean two against three. Your followers, like mine, are useless against Slayers." Yukio kicks Toshiro in the head for this insult. Toshiro rolls on the ground but doesn't bother to get up. "Save it for them."

"So it's hiding for you?"

"Until they split up. Or we come together."

"That's what I'm offering!"

"You're old-fashioned. Like Hoshiko. Look what happened to him."

"So tell me smarty," (the name Toshiro means intelligent) "What's your brilliant plan?" Toshiro reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls our a .22 caliber revolver. "Shoot them? Like an urchin who doesn't know how to fight?"

"If they find me before I'm ready. But they shouldn't. I'm off to Pusan in a few days to find some Koreans. They know they'll be next." Yukio laughs.

"My men aren't good enough for you, your men aren't good enough for you, but the Koreans are?"

"One or two of them, perhaps. Also, I hear there's a guy from Taiwan at Okinawa who's had some experience. If I can add you, that's all we'll need."

"I'm not working for you. I'd rather fight alone."

"Fine. You can be the leader. And you can die like one. Pretty soon, there won't be leaders. Not like before. It's a new time. Change with the times, or you'll end up like Hoshiko."

Debbie wakes up, reaches her right arm over Devlin and turns off the alarm. Unlike most days, he sleeps through the alarm. She turns to her left and rolls over Dev to get out of bed. Suddenly, he opens his eyes and grabs her shoulders. "You think I'd let you get away that easy?," he jokes.

"If you wanted me to stay so bad, why didn't you tie me up?," she jokes back, upping the macabre ante.

"The ropes might burn your wrists. And I don't want to hurt you."

"But if you have to?" She starts laughing and he joins in. "Look at you. Your hair's all fluffy." He feels it.

"Kinda spiky." She frowns. "In the sense that it's sticking up."

"Good thing that's your only part that's sticking up." She kisses him and climbs out of bed. Dev sits up.

"I've almost gotten used to waking up next to you with our clothes on." She takes off her tank top and turns around.

"Last night, I dreamed you killed me."

"Were we fighting?"

"That's your response!?"

"You wanted shock? Sorry. I'm not."

"Which says a lot about us." He stands up.

"If it makes you feel any better, I've never dreamed about killing you."

"Gee. Just what every girl dreams of hearing from her boyfriend."

"So how was I? As a killer?," he asks with a smirk as he slowly steps across the room towards her.

"We were at Panic, in Anaheim, up in the balcony. I was watching my friends dance below. You came from behind, put your arms around me, and I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against your chest. Then you bit me. I didn't scream. Or fight. I just stood there. After a little while, I opened my eyes, and Sid, Paul and Luiz had their teeth out. I guess they were gonna kill my friends. Then I woke up, went to pee, and got back in bed with you."

"Well, if that doesn't say trust, I don't know what does."

"You trust me, don't you,?" Debbie asks. Dev laughs.

"Like you'd ever kill me." She kicks him hard in the chest, knocking Dev onto the bed. Then she grabs a stake from off her dresser, pushes him back down with her left hand and stabs him with the stake in her right. The point goes through his skin and halfway through his sternum.

"Ow!," Dev cries as he looks up at Debbie. "That's a little deeper than usual." They've played this game before.

"I'm getting better with my control." She puts her left hand on top of the stake. "Just a little more pressure, and you're dust." He keeps his hands above his head, where they can be of no help.

"I know." Dev starts to lean his chest upward, forcing Debbie to pull her stake back to avoid slaying him. "You are getting better with your control." She leans down to kiss him, realizes she'd drive the stake through him by doing so, tosses the stake on the floor, kisses Dev and walks into the bathroom.

"You know you're not getting out of this town alive," she vows before turning on the shower. Dev puts his right hand to his heart and smiles.

"Who says romance is dead? Even if I am."

Around this time, Elektra walks the empty halls of Laguna Hills High School, whistling the Go-Go's "Vacation." She drove straight there from the airport after stealing the car from the guy she killed. Devlin made it clear he wanted his sister out of his life. But there was no way she was going away that easy.

Back in 1979, Devlin runs his right hand through his unkempt black hair while Elektra peaks into classrooms. "It's so weird. After Spike, I thought I'd never have to go to high school again."

"You chose to come here," Dev points out.

"So many meals in the daytime. How could I resist?"

"You have no self-control. That's going to get you killed someday."

"Who needs self-control?" Leks leaps through the ceiling panel until only the lower half of her legs dangle out, then drops back down. "I got power!" She punches a locker, leaving a three inch-deep dent.

"Stop it. You'll get us caught." Dev scurries down to the end of the hall and takes a quick right.

"Listen to yourself. Dad's right. You still think you're one of them."

"It's my job to make sure you don't get yourself hurt. Dad wants me to be like this around you."

"I think I know a little more than you about what dad wants," Leks replies with raised eyebrows and a smile. Dev groans and turns his head. "Unless he's doing stuff to you which I totally don't wanna know about."

"So what's your plan? We hit the girls' locker room?"

"You wish! Then you could finally make yourself a vamp who'd let you do her." Dev pushes his sister into the lockers with his left hand.

"Keep that up, and next time you get in trouble, I won't be your hero."

"Oooh. I drew blood," she replies, biting her lip. Dev lets go.

"Just do your killing and let's get this over with." Leks turns her head as an attractive young male teacher walks by. Dev grabs her arm. She pouts. "Too high a chance of rejection. Killing a guy who doesn't want you puts you in a bad mood for the whole day."

"He woulda wanted me."

"Even so, three-to-two he still woulda resisted on moral grounds."

"Fine. I'll do it by the book. The book's so boring." She rolls her eyes and walks into the boys' bathroom. Dev stands outside, reading the New York Post he had tucked under his right arm. A short wiry black kid walks past Dev. He likes getting a look at people about to die who are oblivious to their fate. The young man walks in, Leks does her little song and dance, and Dev reads the sports section during the screaming. Leks walks out, looking glum. "I don't think he liked white chicks."

"Yes. It's a shame when racial prejudice gets in the way of a satisfying homicide."

"I need another."

"You always need another. We'll get it somewhere else." He grabs her right wrist with his left hand and pulls her along.

"I wanna stay."

"And I want to be in the west 20s when the cops get here."

"Tomorrow I'm going to your stupid Clash concert."

"The Clash are not stupid. They're revelatory. No one with a soul can deny them. And few without one."

"I don't care. Punk boys are groddy. My point is, we do what you want tomorrow, so I get to do what I want today."

"Unless it put in needless risk. You have to learn to spread out your killing."

"That's not what daddy says."

"Well, when you kill a Slayer like daddy, then you can behave like him. Until then, follow me and play it safe."

Elektra's in the Laguna Hills High library, surfing the net and checking out the latest news in the vampire chat rooms. Cynthia sits at a carrel, doing her homework. Leks saw her in the hall with Debbie. It looked like the Slayer and her were good friends. This made Cynthia an enticing target. Sunlight shining through a window was in her way. Besides, killing Cynthia would lead to a fight with Debbie. And Elektra had not come all this way to fight. Rather, she had come to show her brother that she had acquired some of his legendary self-control.

"It's dark. It's dingy. Yet it's still depressing. How can that be?," Elektra asks her brother as they enter an arcade.

"I let you have your fun. Let me play a few games, and you can kill someone else. Then we'll take a spin through the Chelsea Hotel, see if we can spot any famous people, and be home before mom and dad are even awake."

Elektra laughs. "You can do anything you want. You can control life and death. And what do you do? You play pinball!"

"We're immortal. We don't have to be in such a hurry." Dev looks around to make sure know one's listening to their strange conversation. Fortunately, the place is noisy. "Here's a quarter. Go play something." Elektra walks around, frowning at all the stupid machines. She watches a college kid play Tron. Here was a human pretending to have special abilities. Well she had them. What would she need to pretend? Why does Devlin? Being around him always made her think too much and analyze the present. She'd rather be fantasizing about the future. The next kill. The next party. The next time she sees Spike. The game finishes, and the college kid turns around. Not bad.

"Hey you," she says, grabbing his hand.

"Your hand's cold."

"Maybe you can help warm me up. Okay. I'm sorry. That's lame. I'm Alexa."

"Todd."

"Todd, can you take off your glasses?"

"Why?"

"I think you might look really cute with them off, and I wanna see if I'm right." He laughs bashfully. Elektra keeps staring at him. He figures what the hey, and takes them off. "I was right!" He smiles. She bites him. He screams. Dev stops playing his game and runs to the noise.

"Oh no!" He grabs two kids trying the leave and smacks their skulls together to knock them unconscious. Then he punches out the proprietor and an adult gamer and looks around to make sure there's no one else who can escape to tell the cops before the vamps have fled the scene. Elektra drains Todd and walks up to Dev.

"I'm full." He wipes the blood off her smiling lips with a handkerchief.

"You are the worst sister ever." They race to the alley behind the store and jump down the sewer grate they climbed out of.

"First I'm taking too long to eat. Then I'm eating too quickly. Make up your mind." Dev clocks her with a right hook to the face. She gasps in horror. He bashes her head into the sewer pipe. "I'm telling mommy."

"So what? She believes in beating the disobedient. And sometimes, also the obedient."

"You two have the sickest relationship. I sleep with my father. But we don't do anything perverted." Dev lands a left hook that knocks her off her feet.

"I liked that place. Now you've ruined it for me. What did I ever do to you?"

"Well, for one thing, I think you knocked one of my teeth loose," she jokes before standing up. "There are stupid video game places all over town."

"There are also stupid people you can bite all over town."

"He was cute. I didn't expect to see any cuties in that nerd hole." Dev starts laughing.

"Hole. Hole." He laughs some more.

"You finally get the giggles, and it's for something that's not even funny. I just don't understand what mummy sees in you."

"Remember when you snuck into that bath house?"

"Of course I remember. It was last week."

"You couldn't understand why every single guy in the place was ignoring you."

"How was I supposed to know there were ALL homosexuals?" He laughs some more. "Okay, I get it: I'm the new girl and I'm from the suburbs. Can we stop dwelling?"

"Spike and I had to drag you out of there before you got violent and caused a scene." Elektra starts laughing.

"And you got pissed because none of the guys were looking at you but they were all checking out Spike. You almost took off your shirt and tried to show off."

"Okay. So we're both insecure."

"Moi? How many minutes does it take me to find a guy to seduce? How many hours – days! – does it take you to find a girl who'll go for you?"

"That's cause men are easy. Women take time."

"Not for daddy." She giggles. "And then you go home crying to mummy, and she hugs you and tells you you're still a handsome devil." Dev starts walking away. "Wait!"

"If you're gonna insult me, find your own way home. Oh. That's right. You don't know the tunnels. You'll be lost until dark." She runs up to him, takes his hands and falls on her knees.

"I'm sorry. You're the best big brother ever. Actually, you're the only big brother. None of the other vampires I met has one. Most of 'em don't even have families." Elektra takes great pride in not being a "bastard." It makes her feel superior to every other teenage vamp, even though she's a newbie. "And it's cool how you look out for me and kick everyone's ass when we get in fights."

"Remember that night under the boardwalk in Coney Island when those jerks said you dressed like a hooker, and I told them to apologize, and they pulled out their knives, and I stuck that guy's fist through his teeth and down his own throat?"

"And you broke their hands and took their knives and cut one guy's ear off, and another guy's nose, and the other three ran away screaming?"

"Mom was so thrilled when she saw those body parts." She stands up and hugs Devlin.

"Like I said, best brother ever."

"I thought your mood swings got better when you had a full stomach?," he asks with a smirk.

Out in the hallway, Elektra spots a guy. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, flat stomach, wavy hair, full lips, strong chin, nice cheekbones. But there was something that differentiated him from your standard high school stud, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Elektra approaches. She wears a short blue skirt and a tight, midriff-baring green t-shirt. Her long hair seems to wave from the breeze caused by all the people zooming past her. Naturally, she catches his eye. Elektra's skilled at making men notice her. She's had a quarter century of practice. "Hi. I'm new here."

"I'm Alex." She gasps.

"No! I'm Alexa. Isn't that freaky?"

"Yeah. I guess. So. How do you like it so far?"

"Okay. It's a little bigger than my last school. Which cafeteria do I use?"

"What grade are you?"

"Eleventh."

"The Commons. Down this way. Here, I'll show you. I'm heading there right now."

"I'm not. Which makes it weird for me to ask. This is my lunch period. But I have to go fix my schedule. See, they gave me homec when I should have biology."

"Oh. Hopefully you won't go hungry."

"Hopefully not." He turns around, walks away, but gives her a look over his shoulder a few steps later. She smiles. Fashions may change. But the boys never do.

Dev and Elektra return home to find their parents in bed watching television. They leap out at the sight of their precocious progeny. "Lex got hungry," Dev reports. Spike puts his hands to her face.

"You're still warm."

"Just warm? What's the matter, daddy? You don't find me hot anymore?" He picks Leks up and plays with her. Dru pinches Dev's cheeks.

"You're cold as candlesticks."

"Wasn't hungry."

"Moi boy needs to eat." Dev feels this is the vampire's great weakness, since killing gets him caught and killed. As Buffy told the Potentials, vampires must feed, they must attack. He'd spent his whole life trying to prove her wrong.

"Only enough so I can fight. Hey dad – there's a gang of vampire hunters in Williamsburg and Park Slope. I've been working on a plan to take them down. What we need are some patsy vampires to draw the humans into an ambush." Spike lets go of Leks and walks over to Dev.

"They come our way, we kill 'em."

"Aren't you worried they could set a bad example, encourage other humans to fight back?"

"Smashing! More to kill."

"I think you're shirking your hegemonic duty. As the killer of the Slayer, you're the de facto leader of vampires in this area. And as such, you have a responsibility to protect the others. In exchange for suitable tribute: riches, women, precious little children," he adds, looking at mom.

"I can get all that for myself."

"I'm talking about building an empire."

"Bollox to empires! I just want to have fun." Spike takes Elektra over his shoulder and carries the gleeful girl to the niche in the rock that is her bedroom. Devlin puts on Patti Smith's "Because the Night" to drown them out and to provide an opportunity to dance with Drusilla.

"I think dad misses the big picture," Dev says before twirling Dru, then pulling her close.

"Tell me about your plans." She was always encouraging her boy to think big.

"Have you had a chance to read over those proposals submitted by, er, that friend of our Slayer?," Wes asks Angel.

"You actually think that's worth my time? You actually thought it was worth YOUR time?"

"Fred insisted there were some valuable suggestions." Angel looks at her, demanding an explanation.

"Mostly it's basic stuff we already do, like regularly checking abandoned buildings and mapping the locations of attacks. But there's also a few ideas the good guys can't use, but we can. Like, umm, infiltrating gangs. Bribing vampires to turn on their fellow bloodsuckers and creating a climate of paranoia The sorta thing you guys call psy-ops."

"Paying vampires. That's the stupidest idea I ever heard." Outside his office, Harmony's on the phone with a jeweler who wants to check out the diamonds Devlin gave her.

Andrew walks into the library. "Your tea," he says to Giles. "Your coffee," he says after walking over to Gretchen, who's at the computer. Rupert decided to slowly easy Andrew back into the Watcher Training Program. For now, he performs menial tasks around the office as punishment for walking into the worst ambush since Little Bighorn. Dawn likes the new arrangement, since once again she's superior to him.

"Thank you," Gretchen says to Andrew after taking a sip. "Andrew, can you do me a favor and take a look at this picture?"

"Aiiiyee!" Andrew leaps back.

"I thought so."

"Oh, come now," Giles responds. "Whatever demon it is, it can't be that scary."

"It's no demon. It's the evil Slayer. With Angel!" Giles takes off his glasses.

"I beg your pardon?"

"There's a picture of the two of them together in today's LA Times," Gretchen reports. "He's giving her an award. And money. I wonder what for." Giles has to see this for himself, and hurries over. He's never seen Debbie, so the picture's not as shocking as it is for Andrew, who remembers Debbie deviously setting him up with the cops and nearly getting him ten years in the state pen. He reads the caption and scans the article.

"It's some sort of Good Samaritan Award."

"I didn't know being a Good Samaritan included getting twelve of your fellow Slayers kneecapped. Buffy was right about not trusting him." Gretchen prints what's on the screen. "I'm sure she'll feel vindicated after seeing this."

"You're not showing that to her."

"We have no right to keep secrets from her."

"It will distract her, and accomplish nothing." Gretchen stands up and grabs the printout. Giles gently grabs her arm. "Please Gretch. I know her." She crumples up the page and throws it in the trash.

"Fine. I'll mention it to her after dinner. No point upsetting her during training, when she might break something. Or someone."


	51. Pretty Cool For A Loser

Back in 1979, Devlin meets a girl, shows her a good time, but loses her to Spike. In the present day, Buffy discovers that Angel's been cozying up to Debbie while Elektra tries to cozy up to Harmony's ex-boyfriend.

Devlin shakes his sister, who's sleeping soundly in bed. She opens her eyes partway. "Unless you're Andy Gibb or Lief Garrett, I'm not getting up."

"Come on, sis. It's time for your mid-morning snack."

"I had a late dinner. A big late dinner."

"I remember."

"Then why you buggin' me?"

"I thought you could help me with my census count."

"Are you still doing that stupid thing?"

"If we don't know where all the vampires in this city are, we can't exploit them. Father will like it once the protection money starts rolling in."

"Daddy doesn't have money problems."

"But we could always use more. And he still hasn't properly leveraged his Slayer kill. The vampires around here owe him, and it's time they start paying up."

"Dev, you're a vampire! A vampire with way cool parents. Stop being such a doof."

"Yeah well, this doof will bring you back a nice ripe teenage boy when he's done with his little job." Elektra smiles.

"Breakfast in bed," she says as she pulls up the covers and goes back to sleep. Devlin returns to his alcove and looks at the map on the wall indicating where each vampire nest was and how many vamps resided in each one. He made the rounds during the day, when they were home asleep. Dev mapped the nests was so if and when vampires refused to pay homage to Spike, then Dev could torch them in their sleep. Elektra liked that part. She just frowned on the necessary grunt work. Spike felt the same way, though Dru as usual encouraged her son and gave him hugs and kisses for a job well done each time he mapped a new neighborhood. Devlin had surveyed all of Manhattan below 60th street, and was now going to take the train to Brooklyn. Down in the tunnels on the other side of the East River, he found two small nests, which he duly recorded in his notebook. He also found a teenage girl living by herself. She was short, with blonde hair, bundled against the wall under a dirty blanket. Dev took out his flashlight and shone it in her face. Even in this condition, her beauty was obvious. The light caused her to open her eyes. Dev quickly shut off the flashlight and put it and his notebook in his jacket pockets.

"What do you want," she asks suspiciously.

"I want to help you." He immediately regrets this lousy response.

"Why you buggin' me?"

"Cause I'm bored. Cause I'm lonely. Cause you deserve better."

"Leave me alone, creep," she shrieks as she leaps up and tries to push Dev onto the third rail. He bends his knees, holds his ground, picks her up and tosses her back into the spot off the tracks where she was sleeping.

"I can be nice, or I can be not so nice." She laughs.

"You're no tough guy." He take a crucifix in his bare left hand and shoves it against her right forearm.

"Tough enough," he replies as both of them burn. She shrieks and pushes him away.

"Freak."

"Maybe a freak's what you need. You can't get any lower than this. Don't the trains wake you up?"

"I get used to them. Besides, I'm a pretty sound sleeper. Except when some sicko loser shoves a flashlight in my face." She had decided to give the boy a chance and see what she could scam off him.

"The name's Devlin."

"Call me Sheena." Dev's face lights up.

"As in Sheena is a Punk Rocker'?"

"Yeah. You like the Ramones?"

"I love them! Seen 'em live like ten times!"

"Cool."

"First things first, we gotta clean you up, get you outta the tunnels and into some buildings full of people you can bite."

"You mean downtown? Isn't that dangerous? Especially during the day." If things got hairy, she could always sacrifice him and make her escape.

"Not if you know what you're doing."

"And you do?"

"I learned from the best. Me and my dad used to go day hunting all the time."

"Dad?" Dev remembers how strange that sounds to outsiders.

"Spike." Her eyes light up.

"You know Spike?"

"He's my sire."

"Cool!"

"Yeah. He's cool."

"Can I meet him?"

"Sure. After he wakes up. Until then, how bout giving me the chance to show you a good time?"

"Fine," she shrugs, taking his hand as they walk along the tracks. "So what's he like?"

"Very demanding. Spike doesn't suffer fools."

"Cool. Does he go out on the street and kill anyone he wants and fight off mobs?"

"Occasionally. Actually, rarely. At least since I've been around." Devlin thinks daddy may be going soft in his old age.

"So do you and him hang out and feed together?"

"Sure. Spike taught me a lot. Then again, there are a few tricks I've picked up on my own. Like where to take a nice bath in the morning."

"Do I smell that bad?"

"No. But you could smell better. And look better." These comments appear to rub her the wrong way. Dev is not good with women. "We can go shopping."

"In the daytime?"

"We're vampires. We can do anything."

"Except walk in the sunlight."

"We can even do that."

"Yeah right."

"How long have you been a vampire?"

"Six years."

"I've met ones who were sixty and still as clueless as you." She goes to slap Devlin but he grabs her right wrist. She slaps him with her left hand. He smiles. "This is the best city in the world to be a vampire."

"Manhattan's got no alleys."

"Let me rephrase. It's the best city if you're willing to live dangerously."

"No offense, but you don't look so dangerous."

"That way, no one gets suspects me. You can get away with just about anything if you look harmless."

"You're early," Devlin says from the computer in Debbie's room when she comes through the front door."

"I have tenth period free today. You know that."

"Don't you usually stay to hang out with your friends after school?"

"Today I wanted to hang out with you." She hugs and kisses him. "Whatchya up to?"

"Reading vampire chat rooms."

"There are chat rooms about vampires?"

"Chat rooms for vampires. We travel a lot. If you want to get in touch with an old friend who's on the other side of the world, this is where you go."

"You're not thinking of going anywhere?"

"I was looking to see if I could find anything about you."

"Like what? Death threats?"

"The only death threats are for the traitorous vampires who work for you. Sometimes I join in as myself and see how people react. Usually they think I'm pretending."

"Like people on message boards who pretend they're the celebrities everyone's posting about? Does that make you a celebrity?"

"Only because I'm associated with you." Debbie smiles and sits on Dev's lap facing him, her legs straddling the chair.

"You know the saying: behind every great man is a greater woman." She kisses him. He puts his arms around her. She arches her back, causing Dev to tremble.

"I think I'd call you breathtaking. If I had any breath for you to take." They kiss some more.

"Let's go to a movie. Something lousy, so we won't be distracted."

"Why not just stay here?"

"It's more exciting in public."

"Yes. When we're outdoors," he adds with a chuckle, recalling some fond memories from months past.

"I say we stick to dark rooms with no windows so long as the sun's out." Devlin suspects Debbie's still awkward about sex, and this proposal is a bid to forestall that possibility for a few hours. But at least she wanted to be close to him.

"Sure. We'll take my car. I'll get the umbrella."

"Wouldn't we look like freaks carrying one of those on a sunny day," Sheena asks.

"This is New York. They don't mind freaks."

"This place is nice," she says of the building they snuck into. "But what's up with the old guys? You like killing prunes?"

"We're not here to kill," he replies as he enters a luxurious locker room at the Downtown Athletic Club. "We're here to shower."

"How not insulting," she sarcastically replies.

"You need one. I need one."

"No we don't. You're clean. I'm cute, so for me it doesn't matter." Devlin starts to take off his clothes.

"It's part of blending. When you're dirty, you stand out. You don't stand out, you get more killing done. Trust me, it pays off." He drops his pants and gets naked.

"You work out here or something?"

"Does it look like I work out," he asks with a smile.

"Your muscles are small. But they're easy to spot."

"Come on. What you waiting for?"

"Shouldn't I use the girls' room? Ya know, to blend'?"

"The club's restricted. No blacks, no Jews, no women. But nothing about keeping out vampires." Devlin found it humorous that the narrow-minded members were scared of the wrong outsiders. Sheena didn't. Most vampires didn't get Devlin's sense of humor. Actually, most vampire's just plain didn't get Devlin.

"Eh, what the hell." She starts to take off her shirt. "Wait a sec. Is this just a stupid trick to get me naked?"

"Trust me. I can resist. I know you can," he replies self-deprecatingly. Sheena's struck by his tone, since vampires are seldom humble.

"Just as long as you don't try anything funny."

"Don't worry. I can tell you don't like my jokes." She takes her shirt off, and notices Dev's not noticing her. He's looking out of the shower into the distance. "I think we have an audience."

"What's going on here," a man in his early sixties with a towel around his waist asks in an outraged tone. He gasps when a topless Sheena turns around.

"What's going on is you have very bad timing," Dev declares before going bumpy. The stunned fellow yells for someone to take care of the ruffians, and Dev, ever-worried about drawing too much attention, races after the man and chokes him to death with both hands. He tosses the body into the sauna. Sheena's impressed with his efficiency. "Shall we," he asks as he walks back into the shower. She smiles and joins him. Once they're both soaking wet, he walks over, tentatively puts his right hand to her face, and leans in to kiss her. She kisses him back, pushes him down, and they roll on the floor together, laughing. But she puts a stop to any further monkey business.

"Maybe later. All this running around's made me hungry."

"Plus, you'll need some new clothes," Dev responds, pointing to her clothes on the wet floor.

Buffy just sits there, in her living room, staring at the picture of a smiling Angel with a smiling Rogue Slayer. She eventually balls the paper up and drops it to the floor. "I'm sure there's an, umm, explanation," Giles finally offers.

"Yeah," Xander responds. "He's probably not paying her FOR kneecapping our Slayers," he adds, feeding Buffy's worst suspicions.

"They sure looked friendly," Buffy says, standing up and punching the wall, breaking through the plaster and hitting the brick, bloodying her right knuckles.

"To be fair, I've checked and vampire attacks in Orange County are way down," Gretchen points out, unknowingly defending her brother's girlfriend.

"Down as much as in the communities where we have two Slayers."

"Four have left," Buffy responds. "Four have left. Four Slayers are gone. Right when they healed — gone! And never coming back. They're as good as dead to me. From and, uhh, operational standpoint," she adds, not wanting to appear too cold. The four Sunnydale veterans had stayed. But half of the new girls Devlin shot up decided not to stick around. It was his greatest victory. Merely injuring Slayers achieves nothing. Convincing them to abandon Buffy was the whole point. She knew this as well as he did.

"Buffy, you know how Angel never gives up, no matter how far gone the person — or Slayer — appears. This could be his way of reaching out, of trying to prevent her from going completely evil." Buffy closes her eyes and punches the wall with her left fist, bloodying those knuckles as well.

"I don't wanna know why. I don't care. It, it doesn't matter," she says, shaking her head and chuckling with exasperation. "He made his choice."

"Perhaps it's not that simple," Giles offers.

"I don't believe this. You're taking his side?"

"I am merely pointing out that everything isn't necessarily about you. Just as taking Dana wasn't about him (it was about Wolfram Hart). You can't take every action which upsets you personally."

"You defend Angel when he's giving awards to a girl who hobbled our Slayers, but you're against Spike when he's helping me save the world?" She would prefer it if he were more consistent in his suspicions.

"Using an amulet given to us by an evil organization whom we rightly regard as the enemy," Giles retorts.

"It's a complicated world," Gretchen chimes in. "Now, I'm not defending Angel. But we can't judge a single action out of context."

"Then why did you show me this?" After all, it seemed calculated to piss Buffy off and make her mad at Angel.

"We never keep news about any Slayer from you." Buffy paces back and forth a few times before responding.

"You're right. It's a complicated world. Everyone does what's best for them. Angel. Me. Little Debbie." After this cryptic remark she storms out of her house. For the record, "Little Debbie" is three inches taller than Buffy. But for her, maturity and power matter far more than size. Xander looks at Buffy's blood where she punched the wall.

"A lot sturdier than her old home." She would have knocked a hole through its drywall and plywood. Xander turns around and looks at Giles. "That went well."

"I was afraid a lamp might get broken," Giles offers.

"Is she going to do something reckless," Gretchen asks.

"Of course not," Rupert responds. "Why would you even think that?"

"From the way she marched out of here, I doubt she's going to the movies."

"She just needs to let off some steam," Xander explains.

"Unfortunately — or fortunately, if you look at it in the proper way — there aren't any vampires in this city for her to thrash," Giles mentions. Vampires tended to steer clear of places with a Slayer school.

"Maybe there's a soccer riot she can break up," Xander jokes.

Buffy steps out of a cab and walks to a wrought iron gate which surrounds a Palladian mansion. A handsome man rushes out as the gate automatically swings open. "Gonzalo!" She hugs, then kisses him. He smiles gratefully.

"I have missed you, Buffy." He had been away the past week.

"Me too. Accept I didn't miss myself," she jokes.

"Is this about Venice?"

"Venice. Isn't it a little early in the relationship to be going off for a romantic weekend?" He laughs.

"I've heard there's a colony, of vampires, there."

"I'm sure Giles will send some girls out to take care of that. I was actually hoping to forget about work for a little while. Maybe you could take me to some of those hot clubs where you're always getting your picture taken?"

"I thought you preferred to stay out of the limelight?" Buffy had previously expressed worries to him about dating a quasi-celebrity.

"The light's not so bad."

Devlin walks down Fifth Avenue, holding an umbrella in his left hand. Sheena hugs his body and enjoys the shade. "Don't you worry about the wind blowing it away? Or what people think? Who uses an umbrella on a sunny day?"

"The good thing about this city is it's full of weirdos. People hardly even notice us. Well, they notice you, since you're beautiful. And fashionable."

"Thanks to you." She's wearing clothes they took from some of the finest stores in town. "Dev, are you hungry?"

"Not particularly. And didn't you have enough at Barney's and Neiman-Marcus?"

"Two checkout girls. Big deal. With all this walking, I've burned right through them."

"I suppose we could catch a movie."

"I'm not hungry for popcorn."

"I'm talking massacre. A Wednesday matinee will have four, five, maybe six people in the theater. We can pick 'em off one by one. Write things on the screen in blood. Maybe we'll make the papers." Sheena smiles and kisses his neck.

"You know something? For a loser, you're pretty cool." Dev winced at this barbed compliment. But this wasn't the last time he'd hear this line. It would eventually become his unofficial motto.

Devlin opens his car door, sticks out his umbrella, and steps out into the blazing California sun. Deb puts on her sunglasses and walks next to him from the parking lot to the ticket window. He lets her take hold of the umbrella. "It's so much easier on a Wednesday, he says to her. No crowds staring at us."

"If I cared what people thought, I'd drop this thing, let you burn, and date some boring old normal guy." She playfully tosses the umbrella a few inches up then catches it.

"We could always go in separately."

"Why? Even without you, I'm still a freak."

"Yes, but with me, you're an abomination," he jokes. "A crime against nature."

"Now, now. None of that sexy talk till we're inside," she jokes back.

"What schools would you like to visit over Spring Break?"

"God, your mind's all over the place today."

"I just want what's best for you." She stops walking where the sidewalk meets the parking lot.

"Are you what's best for me?"

"That's not for me to decide." Debbie closes her eyes. A pained look spreads across her face as she slowly leans forward, briefly kissing Devlin on the lips, as if unable to resist though part of her wants to. He puts his right hand to her left cheek, then runs it through her hair. She opens her eyes and looks to her right at the man in the ticket counter ten feet away, staring at the strange people under the umbrella. Deb touches the tip of her nose to Dev's. She had decided long ago.

After their delightful movie time massacre, Devlin and Sheena rode the subway until nightfall, when they went to Times Square to watch the night life and pick fights with the 42nd Street pimps, dealers and assorted miscreants. Then they went up to Central Park and killed a lovely couple out for a moonlight ride in a horse-drawn carriage. After dispatching the driver, they unharnessed the horse and one tried to ride it while the other one bit the terrified animal. Bloated with blood and exhausted from their long day, Dev took Sheena back downtown to the Chelsea Hotel, where he sometimes stayed when he wanted to get away from the parents. Sheena was disappointed to see Devlin actually pay for their room. But he explained the Chelsea was, like CBGBs, off-limits to feeding because of the cool people who went there.

"That doesn't mean you can't have fun," Devlin says as they stagger up the staircase arm-in-arm. "Look at the paintings. Sometimes, when the guests can't afford their rent, they pay with work. Place is full of artists. And there's nothing to stop us from visiting any one of them, any time we want, and forcing a musician to serenade us on pain of death." They both laugh.

"Maybe tomorrow."

"Spike got this guy to paint Dru's picture one time. Julian Schna-something or other."

"Where's the room where Sid killed Nancy?" Dev opens the door and throws Sheena inside.

"I'll show you tomorrow." She pounces on top of him and pins his arms back.

"You think you're a tough guy?"

"No. Just brutal." She laughs. Dev tosses her off of him. She pushes him against the wall, then slams his face into the floor. "When you least expect it," he adds.

"Oh really." She walks away from him and towards the bed. "Surprise me."

Dev slouches and stares at her coldly. "You have blood in your hair," he says with a grin. Then he reaches his left arm back and punches the mirror on the bureau with his fist. He takes off his shirt, picks up a large shard of glass and etches a giant bloody spiral into his chest.

"Are you a sicko," she asks, surprised and slightly worried. Devlin seemed so dreadfully normal. He tosses the shard at her head. She ducks, and it sticks into the headboard behind her. Devlin slowly shakes his head.

"Sickos are so common." He walks towards her, trying to appear menacing. But he blows it by belching. They'd done a lot of drinking that day. Sheena burst into laughter. Devlin burst into laughter. He climbed into bed with her, bloodying the sheets.

"He neva came home," Dru says the next morning as Spike bites her left shoulder while they lie in bed. She stares at the ceiling while he tries to get busy.

"Who, love?" Dru slaps him with her right hand.

"Your son."

"Oh. He's probably just starving himself while tracking some bloke for days who I woulda killed in an instant. That's the boy's idea of fun."

"A mother worries." Spike laughs.

"You're not his mum." She slaps him harder. Spike smiles.

"I feel for him loik a mum."

"You baby him like a mum. No wonder he's such a bloody underachiever."

"Naught in his moind. He thinks massacres. I see little girls. Crying. Bleeding. Screaming." Spike's clearly turned on by the image she's describing, and he sucks on her shoulder. She moans. "Ghastly paintings. Filling the gallery. Waiting to come to life."

"Sounds a lot like last night," Spike jokes as he gets on top. He doesn't pay much attention to Dru's visions of Devlin's supposedly grand future. Elektra's the kid he believes is destined for greatness. Which seems a sensible prediction, given her energy and abundant natural talent. Then again, Dru was the one with intuition. Her visions didn't quite make sense at the time. What's so great about taking down a bunch of seemingly helpless girls? Then, several decades later, Slayers multiply, and Dev maims a dozen of them. It all finally made sense to Dru. The reason her visions of Devlin's future had always been so vague, the reason she could never articulate them to Spike, was that the world in which their son would make his mark did not exist yet. But Buffy had helpfully taken care of that and given Devlin the chance to reach his potential. And so Dru sent her daughter to find her brother and convince them to avenge their dear mother for the many indignities she had recently suffered.

If only it were that easy. Debbie was in the way. Elektra's instinct was to kill her, but she knew that would backfire, because Devlin suffered from some rare disease that made vampires care about certain human beings, even when he had the power to kill them. She had to separate them, and didn't know how. Yet mummy had insisted now was the time, so Leks figured all she had to do was keep her eyes and ears open for clues. Early in the evening, she is doing that at the local Starbucks when in walks Alexander. Recon could wait for a few minutes. She catches his eye and smiles. He smiles back. Of course he does. Mummy always told Leks she had a killer smile. She walks up to him, and smells sweat. "Hey Alex. You just come from practice?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"With a body like that - " He smiles bashfully.

"You play any sports?" She knows mentioning his body caused him to check out her body, and only good could come from that.

"Track. I run. Really fast. Plus I do a little kickboxing in the offseason."

"So, umm, can you beat people up?"

"Pick someone and I'll show you." He laughs some more.

"You're funny."

"I'm a whole lotta things. That is, if you want to get to know me."

After two day blissful days and two bloody nights together, Devlin decided to take Sheena to meet the folks. They arrive home early the following afternoon, hand in hand. "Miss me?" Once Dru sees the girl, she appears very uncomfortable. "This is Sheena." Dru, temporarily speechless, walks up to them.

"A girl. You found a girl. This, this girl?"

"Woman." Drusilla trembles. Elektra comes over to see what the commotion is.

"I don't believe it. You had sex! Way to go, bro. It's been what — seven months? Thank you for sleeping with my brother."

"You've been hurt," Dru says to Dev. She sees the cigarette burns on his arms and can only imagine what fresh wounds he's hiding underneath his shirt.

"Jealous, mother?" Sheena's a little creeped out by the strange family dynamic. But, mostly, she's shocked to see vampires living as a family.

"Dev's told me about you guys. I think it's cool how you look out for one another." Dru stares right through Sheena. Leks tugs at her arm.

"Come on, mummy. Let's go shopping,"

"Don't worry. We'll have fun without you," Dev tells Drusilla, trying to push her buttons. Mother and daughter leave, and son gives Sheena the grand tour. A few minutes later, Spike gets out of bed. He's shirtless, wearing only black leather pants.

"Oh. You're back," Spike says when he spots his son. Sheena stares at him, mouth wide open. "Who's this?"

"Sheena," she responds, rushing up to the celebrity vampire. "I've heard all about you."

"A fan."

"Can you tell me how you killed that Slayer? She had everyone so scared."

"Everyone except me. It's not like Nikki was the first Slayer I snuffed."

"We were just stopping by," Dev says.

"Can you give us a minute," Sheena asks a dejected Devlin.

"We can go hunting with him tonight, if you want," he offers in desperation.

"Just a sec. Okay?"

"I'm not sure MOM would like that."

"I think I know your mum better than you, son."

"Sheena, you mind if I come along, join you guys," a desperate Devlin pleads.

"We've been together for forty eight hours straight. What's a few minutes apart?"

"Well, umm, it's not so much the being apart as it is, the - "

"Have a nap or something. You deserve a rest."

"So do you"

"Not yet," she answers with a sly smile, walking into Spike's room. Devlin stands there for a few seconds, listening to Spike whisper and Sheena giggle. Then he punches the walls until his hands are bloody and walks out. He returns shortly after sunset. Dru and Elektra are modeling their new clothes for Spike.

"These aren't the first women to show off for you today," Dev announces.

"Son. You've returned," Spike says, walking over to Dev, who pushes his father away.

"Does mom know? Did dad tell you who he did today?"

"Your pet wus chummy. It would've been rude to say no. We do have manners in this house," Spike says with an arrogant laugh.

"Mom's not enough? Leks is not enough?"

"Supply and demand. Didn't you study economics in college?" Dev lunges at Spike, trying to take him down, but Elektra pulls her brother away.

"Is this about that blonde," she asks.

"Good point. You don't even like blondes!"

"Neither do you," Spike responds to his rage-filled son. "Son, I know you're mad. At her and at me," he begins, trying to sound conciliatory. "But you deserve better than that leech. It's clear she wus only using you to get to me." Devlin goes bumpy and pushes his father away.

"She liked me. We had fun together. We had a connection. And you had to be selfish and ruin everything."

"You cared for this girl, son?"

"Yeah. She was lost and in pain, and I was saving her. Showing her a new world."

"That's sweet, Dev. But she clearly didn't care for you. Better to know now than a month from now when you started getting attached. Think of how much it woulda hurt then. I did you a favor." Devlin screams, grabs a crowbar in his right hand and charges Spike, who laughs and grabs his son's right wrist. The furious son grabs his father's precious hair with his left hand, trying to pull it out. Spike tosses the boy across the room. "Ow. That hurt. Watch the hair." Spike makes sure none of it's out of place.

"I love you. And you hurt me. Again, and again, and again! Why?"

"I dunno. Maybe cuz it's fun?" Tears in his eyes, Devlin attacks Spike once more. Spike tosses him to his right, and Dev hits the wall above the couch, rolling to the ground and getting up.

"Someday dad, you're gonna need me, and I won't be there," he says as the tears stream down his face. "And then you'll realize what a fucking idiot you are!"

"Get out!"

"Fine!" A frantic Dru enters the fray, grabbing Dev and glaring at Spike.

"Now, now boys. Carriage needs awl four wheels, and wheels can't roll by themselves."

"No one insults me in my bloody home."

"But you can piss on anyone else, even your own son!"

"If he's been a bloody disappointment, then yes!" Drusilla shrieks, quieting her boys down. She takes hold of Devlin's arms and licks up the tears on his face to calm the boy down.

"It's okay baby," she says, stroking his forearms. "Mummy make everything awl right."

"Promise," Dev asks in between sobs.

"Stake moi heart." He leans in to kiss her lips, but she shudders and backs away. Devlin's rage returns.

"Fine! Fine! If nobody wants me, I'm gone! See you all in hell!" Dev puts the crowbar through the television and takes off. Elektra runs towards him but Dru grabs her daughter and hugs her from behind. Spike musses up her hair.

"Don't worry, sugarplum. He'll be back." Leks looks up at daddy.

"Why'd you sleep with the succu-bitch?"

"I didn't. It wus just a shag. We barely even touched the bed," he adds with a laugh. "Now let's go out. Wherever you want!" Elektra just runs over to her bed and sulks.

"I miss my brother."

"You've were apart for three bloody days. You didn't miss him then."

"Because I knew he was with us. He was just away. Now he's gone." Spike doesn't understand how she became so attached to Devlin so quickly. He's never known a vampire to care about a vampire of the opposite sex when they weren't shagging. It was almost as if she saw Devlin as a literal, and not just a figurative, brother.

Elektra prowls the deserted streets of Laguna Hills. The worst thing about the suburbs was no one came out at night. Except some old lady to walk her dog, and Elektra wasn't that desperate for a meal. Inevitably, she wandered to Debbie's house, and peered in through the window. They were cuddled up on the couch. How revolting. Her big brother with a Slayer. And she could see the hickeys on his neck. At least Spike had that chip, so his options were rather limited. Dev was doing this completely out of free will. Leks kept hoping that at any moment Devlin would bite Debbie's neck and the clueless Slayer would scream until the life was drained out of her. Mummy had promised something special was about to happen, something that would rouse her brother out of this puppy-love stupor he was wallowing in. But not tonight, apparently. Elektra ran two miles down the road to her car. Time to let daddy know she was back.


	52. Jeta pays for her fun

Gretchen has a rollicking time hunting down Jeta in Paris. Debbie convinces Devlin that he should try to get his soul back. And Spike worries that his new girlfriend sees him merely as a sex object.

Like her older brother, Gretchen believed in doing her homework. She steps into a sidewalk cafe on a sunny late afternoon in Paris. Gretchen approaches a woman who, like her, has dark hair and is in her early forties. She is smoking a cigarette and reading the paper. "Expecting someone, Renee," Gretchen asks in French. The woman looks up at the annoying stranger. "Of course not. Yetta doesn't come out during the daytime." Gretchen sits down opposite Renee.

"American?"

"You're quick."

"It's your accent. Also, you Americans love to stick your noses in other people's business."

"You're right. Yetta kills other people, which makes it my business."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't try to sound naive, Renee. Not with that face."

"Many women like this face."

"Because it tells a story. Yetta, now — she's older than either of us, but still looks like a schoolgirl. Is that your thing?" Renee scoffs.

"I don't know what kind of school you went to - ," she responds before chuckling. "I wish there had been a girl at my school half as beautiful as her." Renee takes a long drag on her cigarette. "Jealous?"

"Of her," Gretchen responds, putting her right hand on Renee's left knee and smiling. Renee stares in Gretchen's blue eyes for a few seconds, then slaps Grethen's right hand, which she pulls back.

"She told me you'd be coming. Only you were supposed to be much younger. Or a man." How sexist, Gretchen thinks, assuming all Watchers were male.

"I have to say, you must be incredibly good. Otherwise she would have killed you by now. You keep it up, she'll let you hang on for another week."

"She's not at my apartment. I don't know where she is."

"Except when she's with you."

"Is that a request?"

"She'll know I talked to you."

"She'll know I told you nothing."

"So she can read minds. Now you have told me something."

"And since she's a Gypsy, you probably think she can tell fortunes. Read palms - "

"Turn herself into a raven. No, that's not a Gypsy trick. It's a vampire trick."

"You think I care? You think that bothers me?"

"I think it should. I'm sure you didn't know the first time you invited her in. Maybe after that, you were afraid to say no."

"Of course. I was afraid to miss out on all that ecstasy," Renee jokes, taking a long drag on her cigarette. Gretchen grabs her left forearm and squeezes, looking very serious.

"Remember Renee, I also know where you live. Finding Yetta will save dozens of lives. You tip her off, I hold you responsible for their deaths. What's one dead woman when a whole city is at risk?" Renee struggles to break free. Gretchen lets her go. The spooked woman hurries away. Of course Gretchen has no intention of killing this woman. But the important thing was to make Renee think otherwise. Gretch walks away and takes out her phone. "Rupert."

"Gretchen! How's Paris?"

"Lovely. I've got an idea. How about making me bait?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I think I'm her type."

"And what type is that? Gorgeous? Brilliant? Worldly?"

"Mature. Heck, that could also describe you."

"Thank you," he replies bashfully. "Very funny joke, offering yourself to the vampire."

"I'm not joking. I think I can seduce her." Giles nearly chokes on the tea he is sipping. Andrew rushes in. Rupert waves him away.

"I'm all right."

"Don't worry. We'd let the girls take her out before she got to third base."

"Third? Is that - thank God I know nothing of baseball."

"Rupert, we know this girl's hard to catch. But she's a seductress, and they never expect you to turn the tables on them."

"That would put you in tremendous danger."

"I'm always in tremendous danger. Are you jealous? Don't be jealous. This is strictly tactical. No ulterior motives. I went through that phase in college. Just kidding. They didn't have lesbian chic when I was in college."

"Er, um, I know what this is. You're trying to make me flustered. Bravo, Gretch. Well done."

"The flusterage is completely ancillary. She's expecting a Slayer or a male Watcher. She'll never suspect me." Like her brother, Gretchen knows the value of anonymity.

"Or she will, and you'll never stand a chance."

"Okay," Gretchen pouts. "We'll do it your boring old way. Say, how about a lesbian Slayer? I could call Camille and have her up here by morning."

"We are not — Gretchen, while I applaud your originality, we are not in the business of seducing vampires, no matter how dangerous they may be! Oh, hello Buffy," Giles says as he looks to his door, which is open.

"Sorry, Rupert. You spend three nights canvassing lesbian bars, you get a little focused on the libidinal. Tonight, we hit the fleshpots."

"Nicole and Sherri must be delighted," he jokes drolly.

"I told you, this is a job for Kennedy and Camille." They hang up. Buffy continues to stare at him.

"Gretchen," he explains. "She had some rather alarming ideas on ensnaring troublesome vampires."

"Don't ask. I get it," she says as she slowly backs out and walks away. With Gretchen, Buffy knows it's best not to delve too deeply. Meanwhile, 7,000 miles away, Gretchen's former brother was putting the moves on his Slayer.

"Dev, stop."

"You don't mean that," he replies, kissing her neck and sliding his right hand below her belly button.

"Yes," she answers, kissing him. "No," she vacillates, kissing him again. "Oh God," she exclaims before kissing him a third time. Finally, she throws him off the couch and over top of the coffee table. He rolls into the television. "I'm sorry."

"You're scared."

"Of something we've done a thousand times before? Okay, maybe not a thousand."

"But not of late."

"Do you want to kill people?"

"Right now?"

"Ever."

"If we're out, and someone annoys me, there's the urge to react. People feel that way too."

"People don't suck other people's blood."

"I don't drain everyone I kill."

"See! Present tense."

"I haven't killed a single person since the night we met. Haven't used my teeth once. All of a sudden, that's not enough for you."

"Could you get your soul back?"

"What?"

"It's been done."

"I don't need a soul to be good. I've proven that."

"Short term."

"Five months!"

"If we're gonna do this long-term, I need a bigger commitment."

"You need me wracked with guilt in order to love me?"

"I already love you. Dammit, Dev. You know that."

"You sure haven't been acting that way lately."

"I've laid it on the line for you. Hell, I'm the most hated Slayer in the whole damn Community. I made my choice. I chose you. Over everyone. I need you to choose me."

"You need insurance."

"What?"

"You can't leave me, cause no one else will welcome you. That's what you said."

"Pretty much."

"Well, I'm persona non grata in the vampire community, on account of killing so many of them. But that's not enough for you."

"If you've really given up your old life, you'd do this. That way, there's no going back."

"Like I said, insurance."

"No. Love." He stares her down. Then his face softens, and he relents.

"I might not be as much fun with all that guilt." She smiles, hugs and kisses him.

"You're gonna do it?"

"Hey, if it'll make you sleep with me," he casually jokes, walking out the door. Debbie's not sure what to think of his remark. Surely that wasn't his only reason. Devlin starts up his car and lights a cigarette. Debbie rushes out.

"Where are you going?"

"Where do you think? To get a soul. Just kidding. Gonna go do a little research."

"Be careful."

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere I'll need to be careful." She kisses him, and he drives off, smoking his cigarette and exhaling up into the night air. Half a world away, Gretchen removes a cigarette from her lips.

"Same plan."

"This place is a lot bigger than the others," Nicole points out.

"Still only a couple ways out. You take the back. Sherri, the front. Don't go anywhere without my signal." The three women enter the Crazy Horse. Gretchen takes a long drag and looks around at all the naked women.

"Camille will be jealous," Sherry jokes to Nicole. They both giggle to hide their discomfort. Gretchen glances back at them, a cigarette dangling from her lips. She looks very serious. The girls get down to business. Nicole hurries over to the back exit. Once everyone's in place, Gretchen walks around. Two dark-haired women, hiding in a semi-circular booth in a dark corner, point out the new arrival. Gretchen sticks out like a sore thumb. But so would Jeta, given her ability to attract a crowd. She spots the entrance to the dressing rooms and walks over, flicking her half-smoked cigarette into an ashtray ten feet away. A burly man stands guard in front of a curtain. Gretchen dispatches him with a swift left chop, jabbing her fingertips into his trachea. As he gasps, she walks by, making her way past several scantily clad women, her hands in her jacket pockets. Thirty feet in, there's a topless dancer, the club's star, going at it with a tall, dark woman who's wearing yellow leather pants and a light blue silk shirt. The dancer's back is up against a mirror, so she can't notice Jeta's lack of a reflection.

"Is this going to be part of the floor show," Gretchen asks in German. Jeta takes her mouth and hands off the dancer and goes bumpy as she spins around. Her shirt's unbuttoned. Gretchen takes her right hand out of her pocket and hurls a jar of holy water at Jeta's bare chest, burning it very badly. She screams as the stench of burnt flesh wafts over the dressing room. Jeta grabs Gretchen's neck with her right hand and leans in to bite the right side of her neck. Gretchen takes her left hand out of her pocket and presses a crucifix against Jeta's crotch. The vampire shrieks and knocks Gretchen down with a swift left hook. When the dancer sees what happened to her girlfriend, and what her girlfriend is, she screams. Jeta grabs the woman by the neck and uses her as a human shield. Between her and the curtain are a half-dozen frightened strippers, clinging to the walls, a dazed bouncer, and two teenage girls. Jeta bares her fangs.

"Move, and she dies," the vampire vows in French. The hostage, clad in high heels and a g-string, is sobbing in terror, begging for her life under her breath.

"You know we can't let you walk out of here," Nicole responds. Gretchen stands up behind Jeta, reaches underneath the back of her coat and pulls out a crossbow. Jeta whispers her sincerest apologies in her lover's/hostage's ear and hurls the woman at Sherri. Immediately after letting go, she does a backwards hand spring and kicks Gretchen in the chest, knocking her into the rear exit. Her crossbow discharges, sending an arrow into the ceiling before falling to the ground. Nicole races after Jeta and tackles her before she can escape, getting on top of the vampire and raising her stake. Jeta effortlessly pushes the Slayer off of her body and stands up. Sherri rushes forwards and tries a right kick. Jets ducks it and puts the Slayer on her back with a left roundhouse kick before hitting Nicole in the face with a right hook kick and a left cross. Two female vampires with dark hair and bright red lips knock down the topless dancer and the bouncer as they rush to Jeta's aid and attack the Slayers. "About time, you lazy cunts," Jeta growls in German. Gretchen tries to stake Jeta from behind, but the vampire reaches back, grabbing the stake with her left hand and Gretchen's hair with her right. She leans in to bite the right side of the Watcher's neck, but Gretchen grabs the red, molted skin on Jeta's chest with her left hand and rips it off. Jeta screams in pain and rushes out the door. Gretchen catches her breath and looks at the disgusting, bloody flesh in her hand.

"She's getting away," Gretchen yells. Nicole stakes her vampire, but Sherri's escapes and runs after Jeta, with Sherri and Nicole close behind. "For the record, she started it," Gretchen quips to her shocked audience before grabbing her crossbow and leaving. An older woman walks in and tells the sobbing, traumatized dancer who was nearly sacrificed by her demon lover that she was due onstage in five minutes. Outside, the Slayers approach the two vampires.

"You can't touch me," Jeta vows to Nicole, who swings for the vampire's face and hits only air. "Fool," Nicole hears from behind as a hand grips her throat tightly. Jeta had played a nifty trick on her. Sherri, who's fighting the other vampire, turns around and sees her pal in peril. "One step, I snap her neck," Jeta tells Sherri as Nicole's feet dangle a few inches off the ground and her face turns purple.

"You kill Nikki, I kill you."

"Nein," Jeta replies with a smile. Her vampire friend grabs Sherri from behind. Sherri hits the woman's nose with the back of her head before she could get bit. Meanwhile, Gretchen's reloaded her crossbow and fires at Jeta's back from thirty feet away. Jeta spins round, and Nicole takes the arrow in her left lung.

"Fuck," Gretchen screams in English. Jeta drops the Slayer like a toy.

"Pity we couldn't be friends, bitch," Jeta says to Gretchen as they stare each other down from a distance. "You're just my type." Sherri knocks down her vampire and tries to stake Jeta in the back, but she turns into a raven and flies away. The remaining vampire makes a run for it, but Sherri catches her.

"Sherri, wait," Gretchen screams in French as she runs over. "She abandoned you," Gretch tells the vampire in German. "Yetta left you to die. But I'll give you another chance. Tell me where she's staying, and you get a chance to live."

"Life without Yetta is no life."

"Have it your way," Gretchen replies as she turns around and walks back to Denise. Sherri takes about fifteen seconds to finish the fight and dust the vampire.

"Shit! Shit! I'm sorry," Gretchen tells Denise in French.

"For saving my life?"

"No. For almost ending it."

"You're sorry you failed," Denise jokes as she stands up.

"I'll take you to the hospital."

"For this?" Sherri runs over.

"Silly me, assuming you're only flesh and blood," Gretchen jokes darkly, commenting on a Slayer's resilience and fragility at the same time. Her brother would appreciate the sentiment.

"The Crazy Horse," Giles asks while talking to Gretchen on the phone. She's back at Denise's and Sherri's apartment. Denise is bandaged up and watching soccer on the television with Sherri. Denise jokes how she could have scored on a header after the ball goes several feet above the striker's head and sails across the goal box. Every time the Slayers pass a game in the park, they are tempted to use their powers and show off.

"Have you been," Gretchen replies.

"Many, many years — decades, ago."

"The girls killed her two friends."

"Female friends?"

"Of course. That's a question I'd expect Xander to ask."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Even though she got away, I left her with a few injuries that should keep her from making any new female friends for a while."

"She attacked you," Giles asks with concern.

"Not without justification," Gretchen jokes. "Trust me, she got the worst of it."

"You're very lucky."

"I like to think of myself as clever and resourceful. Can you put Dawn on?"

"Why?"

"Girl stuff. I just want to see how she is."

"Very well." Dawn gets on, confusing Buffy as well. Giles explains to Buffy what Gretchen told him, while Gretchen repeats the whole story for a curious Dawn, including the more obscene parts she didn't bother to tell Rupert. Dawn loves the attention. Buffy and Rupert still prefer to keep her out of the loop and shield her from the gory reality of slaying. Gretchen knows what it's like to be a forgotten younger sister.

So, coincidentally, does Claire. But she has Spike to give her attention and make her feel special. "Wusn't expecting you, luv." She smiles when he says "luv."

"That's why it's called a surprise." She kisses Spike and puts a hand under his shirt.

"Wait."

"What?" He stands up and walks into his kitchen.

"Is this all I am to you?"

"Yeah," she replies sarcastically. "Just a hot, heroic, funny, incredible guy I can't stop thinking about when he's not around, and can't stop touching when he is."

"That's the bloody problem."

"I'm a problem? The fact that I want you is a problem?"

"Can't we go out sometime? Get something to eat?"

"You drink blood."

"See a movie. I dunno, a play. Or just talk. All we ever do is shag. You come over here, have me, and go on your merry way."

"And you don't enjoy it? Cause if you don't, then the Oscar goes to - "

"Of course I enjoy you, Claire. That's not the problem."

"You think I'm using you," she finally realizes. "That you're like my fuck buddy or something. You're not. You're my boyfriend. And I love spending time with you — whether we're naked or not." She smiles bashfully. "It's just, you take so long, there's not as much time for talking. Compared to my other boyfriends." Spike appreciates the compliment. "Tell you what: Saturday night, we go out, do something fun, try to stay out of each other's pants for a few hours."

"It's a date."

"Great!" She kisses Spike and pulls off his black t-shirt, pushing him back into the oven. "Tonight, while I was waiting for my pictures to develop, I kept thinking about - " She whispers something in his ear. He looks worried. "You don't wanna?"

"No. No. I, I, I've never done that with a normal woman before."

"I'm hardly normal. Hell, I'm fucking a vampire. Course, I wasn't exactly normal before that."

"I know. The severed foot in the locker says it all." She laughs at the memory. "I just worry about damaging your spine."

"I'm a big girl." She grabs Spike's belt and leads him towards the bedroom.

"I know," Spike replies, thrusting her up against the brick wall and kissing her. She puts her legs around his waist and starts to moan.

"I didn't know you liked redheads," Devlin says. A very surprised Spike turns around, Claire still wrapped around him. "Oh, don't mind me. Please, continue." Claire puts her feet back on the ground and looks at the uninvited guest, who's about her age.

"Devlin. What the bloody hell - ?"

"Oh don't give me that, dad."

"Dad," Claire exclaims.

"I wouldn't be here, interrupting your nocturnal commissions, if it wasn't important."

"Claire, I need to go outside for a minute."

"0h-okay." Spike looks around for his shirt. Devlin tosses it to him.

"Here. It was in the kitchen. Were you two doing that thing where you turn on the burners and put your hands, and then your chest, over - never mind. I'm sure you've only done that with mom. I HOPE you've only - " Spike grabs Devlin and drags him into the hall, then punches him in the stomach.

"You couldn't call?"

"It's kind of something I have to say in person."

"Did something happen to Debbie?"

"By the way, Claire does look a lot like Willow. Very interesting." Spike throttles Dev with his right hand.

"Get to the bloody point, boy!"

"Right. So you can get back to your - " Devlin chuckles. Spike hits him again in your stomach. "Ow! How to you expect me to speak if you keep knocking the wind out of me."

"You don't breathe."

"I do when I talk." He takes a long pause. "I want to get my soul back. Since you're the one who took it, I thought maybe you'd know where I should look."

"Very funny."

"I'm serious, dad. Debbie's been really pushing for it. And you know I'll do anything to keep a lady happy.

"You're serious?"

"Very. So what's the frequency? Where do I go? What do I do?"

"It's not that simple."

"Where do I start?"

"You don't, you don't — it's dangerous."

"Since when did that hold me back?"

"And even if you survive, even if you get your wish, you'll hate yourself. You won't be able to live in your own skin."

"So you'd rather I go back to killing people?" Spike takes a while to respond.

"I'm glad you're thinking about this, Dev. Even if it's for the wrong reasons."

"The love of a Slayer is a wrong reason? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."

"I thought she already loved you."

"She does. But lately she's been liking me less. Largely because she's realized I'm an unrepentant mass murderer. That tends to be a turn-off with most girls. Most, but not all. You remember - " Spike shoves Devlin's back into the wall.

"Is this for real?"

"Yeah. Fuck yeah. I've gotten to the point where I don't want to live without Deb, and if this is what it takes to keep her."

"I don't know if the guy would help you."

"What guy?"

"In Africa. He's not really a guy. There's more than one way to do this."

"Yes, and I'm not doing it Angel's way." Spike chuckles. "Kind of defeats the purpose."

"I can ask Fred to do some research. Find the way that would work best for you. Are you serious about this?"

"Yes! For the third time, yes."

"How soon? Are you running off tonight?"

"No. That's something you'd do. I can take my time, weigh my options. Given that vampires seldom seek their souls, I'm sure there's a bunch of ways we've never heard of. Maybe I could pay a shaman, save myself the trouble of a quest."

"This isn't like a bloody nose job. You can't just - "

"No, YOU can't just. But maybe I can. We've always approached the same problems in completely opposite ways."

"You have to want it more than anything."

"I'm the one who's read Tolkein, so don't give me a recitation. Beside, this is the real world, not some allegorical fantasy."

"You don't know wut you're getting into."

"You'd rather I be evil?"

"I'd rather you keep doing what you're doing, which seems to be going pretty well."

"Yeah, but to keep doing who I've been doing, I have to take it to the next level."

"It can't just be about that."

"Why not? A guy can't make the world a better place for the wrong reasons? What about the Invisible Hand, virtuous self interest? Look, there has to be someone, some good guy with the power to make this happen, who realizes it will help people. Everyone wins. It's irrational NOT to give me what I want."

"The world doesn't work like that."

"It can. If you try."

"Son, I'm glad you're, I'm glad you're thinking about this. And son, I'm proud of you. Just so you know. I'm proud of what you've been doing down there, helping people." Devlin smiles. His father rarely says he's proud of him, which is why Spike employed this tactic. "I'll get back to you tomorrow about this."

"Cool. Like I said, I'm not in a hurry." Spike puts his right hand to Devlin's left cheek.

"You know, Fred's been saying some nice stuff about you."

"Really!"

"Your tactics."

"She read my book?"

"Why you so surprised? She knows you're a smart kid with good ideas. We all do."

"Thanks. Thanks dad. It means a lot for you to - "

"Oh, bloody hell. Get out of here before we have to hug." Devlin runs along. Spike reenters his apartment. Claire, who's sitting on the bed, looks up.

"What did he mean by dad?" The very idea of Spike in a paternal role seemed strange to her.

"I sired him. Back in the seventies."

"So, when he said mom, me meant Drusilla?"

"Yeah."

"What's your um, what's your, why was he here?"

"Devlin's kind of been following in my footsteps. In a bad way. But, lately, in a good way. He's given up killing. He fights vampires. He's got a girlfriend."

"Is she a Vampire Slayer?"

"Yes." Claire looks surprised.

"I was joking. There's a Slayer around here?"

"In Orange County. Now, to keep her happy, he wants to get his soul back."

"Like you did?"

"Something like that."

"Wow. Y-y-you've become a role model." She laughs. "You've like turned his life around."

"By turning him into a vampire."

"Oh. Right. I wasn't thinking about it like that. But now that bad thing's been changed into something good."

"Doesn't make it right."

"No. But it makes it better than before. You should be proud of yourself."

"Don't say that."

"Fine. Continue with your eternal self-loathing."

"You have no idea what it's like to do so many bloody awful things and feel - "

"Which is why you do good things, now. Why you devote yourself to making people happy." She kisses him. "People like me."

"You make it sound like a public service."

"More of a private service, in this case." She takes off her shirt. "Unless you got something else you'd rather be doing."

"Nope. Just a bloke with too much time on his hands." Claire leaps on top of Spike.

"Hopefully, for the next few hours, you'll have more than just time on your hands."

Devlin hobbles into Debbie's house, clutching his chest. "Oh! The pain. The pain!"

"What's wrong?"

"It burns!"

"Your soul?"

"No." He undoes the top few buttons on his shirt to show that he is wearing a crucifix around his neck.

"That's not funny, Dev. Actually, it's pretty sick." He takes the cross off, revealing a deep red gouge on his chest.

"Aversion therapy. Building up my immunity, so to speak. That, or I've always been told I substitute pain for sex." Debbie puts her fingers to the wound, which is so hot she nearly burns them.

"You really hurt yourself."

"And I liked it. Which means a soul would be a perfect fit." Debbie gets excited.

"You're gonna do it?"

"Spike's having his workplace chums do a little research."

"You're serious about this?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Debbie embraces Devlin. She can feel the warmth from his self-inflicted wound.

"This pain fetish thing is freaking me out."

"I like to feel."

"There's other things to feel than pain."

"Not when I'm away from you."

"That's cheesy."

"Yet true. There's nothing out there for me. Not without you." The tips of their noses touch, and Debbie kisses him softly.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Neither am I." They kiss again. Devlin's right. He's never left a woman. They always leave him. Back in 1979, he tracks down fickle Sheena in the sewer tunnels. "Lookin' good."

"Thanks. Are you okay?"

"Sure. I know we're not exclusive. That thing with Spike, don't worry about it."

"Great. Cause I do like you, Dev."

"I like you too, Sheena." He pulls his left hand out of his pocket and sticks a needle in her neck.

"What the fuck!"

"Nemo me impune lacessit. No one harms me without retribution." She falls to the ground and her eyes close. Devlin takes out the shard of glass he used to cut himself when they were at the Chelsea Hotel. When she wakes up, Devlin's staring down at her. "You're still beautiful. Not many people can say that afterwards."


	53. Putting Spike on a pedestal

Devlin shows how poorly he takes rejection, then comes to the rescue when Spike and Dru are attacked by vampire hunters. Angel chafes as the idea of a third ensouled vampire, by Fred welcomes the idea. Elektra puts the moves on her new boy toy. And Willow and Kennedy talk about Jeta.

"What did you do to me? What did you do?" Something feels wrong. She stands up and lunges at Devlin, who holds out what first looks like a blonde wig. But it takes only a second for Sheena to realize it's her scalp. He smiles as her screams echo down the tunnel. Slowly, fearfully, she raises her hand up and touches her bare cranium. She screams even louder.

"You used me to get to Spike. You used me, and made me like you, made me care for you. You think I'd let you get away with that?"

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God! You sick fuck!" Devlin licks her blood off the glass shard he used to scalp her.

"Your brain will dry up in a couple hours. Course you'll probably go mad before then."

"How could you do this to me?"

"Some like staking. Some, beheading. Others favor immolation. I prefer to keep a souvenir." He waves her scalp. She lungs at him, but Devlin runs away and leaps onto the side of a passing train. Sheena falls to her knees and cries in terror and desperation.

Late that night, when Spike, Dru and Elektra return home, Spike senses something. "He's been here."

"Dev's back," Elektra asks hopefully. Spike looks down under Devlin's bed and pulls out the fresh scalp.

"No. Just dropping off a souvenir." Dru grabs it and rubs the hair against her face.

"No. A gift."

"A better gift would be my brother," Leks sulks. Spike puts his arms around her.

"Don't worry luv. He'll be back. He's done this before. Sometimes your brother likes go out on his own. But he always returns."

"Like a pigeon," Dru adds.

"I wanna go look for him."

"Maybe tomorrow night. Sun's about to come up."

"And you need to get your rest. Come, deary. Let me tuck you in and sing a lullaby."

Devlin's crossed over into Brooklyn, ensuring Elektra won't find him cause she never goes to the outer boroughs. On his second night, he found the headquarters of the city's hot new vampire hunters in an abandoned tenement. They lived in actual homes, had actual normal lives and jobs, and kept their gear hidden at home, so there wasn't much left for a nosy vampire to take. The building had been home to a nest a vampires who tormented the neighborhood until these locals banded together to take them out. He thought of squatting there, as an act of defiance, but decided that was too risky. Instead, Devlin killed someone in the area each of the next four nights. He watched their patrols, measured how quickly they showed up on the scene, and how many fighters there were. The frustrated men decided they couldn't find this new killer because he lived in Manhattan and didn't linger in the area after doing his thing. Devlin followed them across the Williamsburg Bridge, running on the sidewalk a fair distance behind their cars. They canvassed the Lower East Side, checked in with two fellow vampire fighters in the Alfred Smith Homes, and heard that there was some recent activity in the East Village. The two locals had been afraid to check it out on their own, but eagerly joined with the eight visitors from Brooklyn.

Elektra loved the East Village for its grimy, slimy, desperate energy. Plus, squatters didn't enjoy protection against unwanted vampire entry. After finishing off three struggling artists, Leks, Spike and Dru took out a few homeless people in Tompkins Square Park. That's where their enemies picked up their trail. Elektra carelessly skips down a street in Alphabet City while her parents whisper sweet, twisted nothings in each other's ears. They all have their vampire faces on. Spike hears cars approaching on either side. He lets go of Dru. "Isn't this a one-way street?" The headlights approach. "Leks! Get over her!" She rushes to her father, not quite aware what's going on.

"Do you miss my touch," she asks hopefully, putting one hand on his butt and the other on his crotch.

"Not now." He pushes her away. Then he sees a man step out of a van holding a homemade crossbow that has a wooden stake running along the bottom and sticking one foot out in front of the steel bow arc.

"Are we being attacked," an excited Leks asks.

"Run," Spike orders.

"Go along deary."

"I wanna help," the kid sister whines.

"We'll handle this."

"We're family!"

"Silly bint. It's your bloody funeral." Elektra's only a few months old and Spike hasn't grown too attached.

The drivers stay at the wheel, in case the vampires try to make a run for it. Every few seconds, they gun their engines menacingly. With their high beams on, everyone has a good look at the cornered enemy, who all of a sudden don't seem so imposing. Spike counts the humans as they slowly empty out of their vehicles, weapons in hand. "Eight on three. I like those odds." But Dru seems less sure of their chances.

"It's naught right. I'm losing awl my babies. My baby is gone."

"His loss, pet."

"And ours."

"Bollocks."

"Bollocks yourself," a tall red-headed youth holding an ax shouts out.

"That doesn't even make bloody sense," Spike chuckles.

"Bollocks, bloody, blonde hair," the man holding the crossbow notes. "You must be one who killed that nigger Slayer."

"That's racist," Elektra screams. "You're a racist!"

"You're a killer," a short man with dark curly hair holding a baseball bat replies.

"So. Least I'm not a racist." Even mass murderers could be politically correct.

Crouching atop a nearby building sixty feet in the air, Devlin looks on, torn between wanting to help his family and wanting to punish them for neglecting him.

"Are you the sucker who's been killing in Rockaway," a tall man with a sharpened pool cue asks.

"Hell no," Elektra shouts. "Only a loser would go to that rathole." The man with the crossbow aims and fires for her heart. Spike leaps in front of his daughter and takes the arrow in his stomach. He may not be too attached, but he still has a paternal instinct to protect his baby.

"No matter," the tall man replies, suspecting they don't have the right vampires. "Your kind deserves to die."

"Yes. But not tonight. And not by you," Spike answers defiantly. The eight men who've circled round the trio attack. Spike ducks an ax, knocks the swinger down and throws another man to the curb. But he gets whacked in the back of the head by a 2x4. Dru's hit in the face by the back end of a pool cue. Elektra leaps above her attackers, but once her feet hit the ground one man grabs her from behind while another goes for the stake. She wants to kick him away, but his stake is longer than her leg. In fact, it's more spear than stake. So she jumps, and lifts the man holding her six inches in the air. The stake goes through her stomach and out her back, poking the man behind. She breaks free and punches the fellow who impaled her, but gets a brick in the back of the head from a third man. He then throws the brick at Dru's forehead, knocking her away from a man she was about to bite. Another fighter pounds her back with a 2x4 until she goes down. Dru rolls around as men poke at her, trying to get her heart. Instead, they get her left forearm, right hand and right lung. Spike grabs an ax with his right hand and a man's throat with his left. But the tall man with the cue stick whacks his right eye with the back end, then pops his nose, bloodying it. Spike faces his new opponent, who twirls the stick in his right hand. "Look at the big boy, twirling his pretty baton," Spike taunts.

"I'm gonna do what that guinea bitch couldn't."

"Hey! Watch your language!" Spike jumps up above an attempt to sweep his legs. "The girl had honor."

"What's a 'sucker no about honor?" Spike reaches for the stick, but the man pulls it back. He attacks, but the man takes two steps back, then whacks Spike's right knee.

"Help," Elektra yells as three men wail away at her with baseball bats and lead pipes.

"Baby," Spike responds, turning round to see his two women in dire trouble. Dru's on the ground, in the fetal position, growling. Spike knows it's her preferred defensive posture when confronted by an armed mob that lacks fire. She can block thrusts to the heart, rip away sticks, and kick men who get too close. One fellow shoots a crossbow at her, but she grabs the arrow with both hands and uses to point to poke at her attackers. But Elektra doesn't have a defensive posture. She has never encountered a significant attack. The men are pounding her mercilessly, joking about "tenderizing" the enemy. However, once Spike's taken a few steps, his attacker approaches from behind. Spike turns, grabs the cue just in time and goes for a right hook. The man blocks it and head-butts Spike, further hurting his nose. He then sends his cue straight for Spike's groin, barely missing his vitals but going clear through his upper right thigh. Spike groans mightily as the man lands a right hook to his face, then a right kick to his chin. "Nikki had class," Spike spits, outraged by the attempted crotch shot. "Not like you ponces."

"If you like her so much, why didn't you make her your girlfriend," the vampire fighter jokes back, swinging his cue the way Spike swung his cue when telling Buffy how he killed Nikki. Spike attacks. The man levels his cue. Spike grabs the weapon with both hands when the point is against his chest. His hands start to burn.

"Bloody hell!" Seems the bigoted but brave and resourceful vampire hunter went to the trouble of coating his weapon with holy water, just in case a vampire tried to turn it into kindling. Spike groans and pushes the cue and the man holding it back a few steps. "Just for that, I'm gonna make it really hurt," he vows. But before Spike can wreak his vengeance, he sees the man's left eye fall out of its socket, and the man fall on his face. Standing behind the dead man is Devlin.

"You stupid boy! Did you hear wut I told him?" No he couldn't fulfill his bow. Spike immediately starts laughing. As the fight began, Devlin climbed down the fire escape and pried off an 18 inch-long rusted metal rod from one of the balconies. When things began to look bad for his family, he jumped to the ground, snuck up behind the enemy's leader and jammed the rod through the back of his skull. "Hey! You're leader's dead," Spike turns around and announces. Dev picks up his body so everyone can see the rod protruding out of his face. With that, the dynamic of the fight quickly changes. One of the cars backs up and speeds forward to try to ram Dev and Spike, but they rush into the brawl, and the driver can't risk hitting his own men. Dru and Elektra rise. Mommy bashes two men's skulls together and snaps another's neck. Spike pounds on two of the mean men bullying his precious daughter, while Leks goes after the third one, tossing him into a staircase, punching him several times in the face, and biting him on the hands, neck, legs, chest and neck. The man with the crossbow shoots the fast-moving Spike in the neck. Spike turns and attacks, the arrow still in him. The man tries to stake Spike, who rips away the crossbow and bites his neck. His screams, as well as the screams of the man Elektra is mauling, cause four of the five remaining fighters to run. The last fighter engages Devlin with an ax. Dev ducks the blows, but can't get in a good shot, and is forced to place defense. Once the fighter quickly realizes he is alone, he jumps in one of the cars just before they both race away. Spike limps over to his son.

"Brilliant. Brave. Cunning. And you didn't do so bad yourself." They both laugh. Spike kisses Devlin's forehead and puts his right arm around his shoulders.

"Told ya you needed me."

"Your mother and me, we woulda found a way out. By Leks, well, I think she did need her big brother to see her through." Only now, after she's finished draining the body, does Elektra realize her brother's there. She hobbles over and hugs him.

"You're back! You're back!"

"You think I'd miss a good fight?"

"He really is my son," Spike jokes. Their combat lust is one of the few traits they have in common at this point in their lives. Drusilla slowly makes her way to Devlin, then slaps him with her left hand, deeply disappointing the boy.

"Bad boy. Leaving your mummy and your sister." She slaps him again. "Bad boy!" Devlin thinks for a few seconds, then picks up the leader's eye off the ground.

"My penance." He notices his mother start to smile, puts the eye on his tongue, and leans towards her. She kisses him, and takes the eye on her tongue, then puts it in her left hand and studies it.

"He doied happy."

"Never saw me coming." Dru puts her bloody right hand, with has a hole through it, to his face.

"My dear young boy has a gift." He stares into her eyes and feels his knees buckle. Then he puts his left hand to her right hand, pulls it to his mouth and sucks the blood out of her wound. At the same time, Dru reaches her left arm out, pulls Spike's head towards her and licks the blood from the arrow wound to his neck. Elektra busies herself by grabbing hold of the metal rod through the leader's head and spinning him round and round, faster and faster. Finally, she lets go of the rod, and the body flies through a second floor window. A light comes on, and a woman screams. Spike and Dru laugh and hug their daughter. Spike's black pants hide his hideous groin wound, but Elektra smells the blood.

"Oh no! Did they get your? - " she puts her right hand down his pants and smiles as she feels around. "Noooo. Thank God. Or Satan. Whoever." She puts her left hand to his wound and falls to her knees. "I'll hafta have a look at this." She licks her left palm and smiles at the thought of taking care of Spike. Dru puts her left arm around Spike's shoulders and her right arm around Devlin's, staring in her son's eyes. This is the first time he's ever helped out for his parents when they were in a bind.

"You knew, what to do." After all, Dev didn't just join the brawl. He turned it around with a single quick, dramatic gesture.

"Wasn't too hard to figure out, mummy. They weren't even watching me."

"You're invisible," she whispers into his left ear. "Neva forget."

Devlin rushes into the bathroom after Debbie took her shower and grabs her from behind as she brushes her hair. "Didn't see you there," she says, looking in the mirror.

"I'm used to that."

"Oh, come on," she responds, turning around. "Spending most of my waking, and all my sleeping, hours with you isn't enough?"

"I'm gonna miss you."

"It's just for the weekend."

"Lousy environmentalist teachers, wanting to make you appreciate nature."

"Do demons live in the wilderness?"

"Sure. But not in National Parks where Rangers would try to study and catalogue them."

"I can't believe I asked that," Debbie jokes. "I'm going camping and the first thing I think about are finding demons to kill."

"You can always kill a few classmates," Dev jokes back. "I hear you and Francine don't get along too well."

"Don't kid about that stuff."

"Why? Cause you think I might kill her? Ya know, cause it's my nature."

"Dev. Honey. We're passed that."

"No we're not. Otherwise you'd be out of that robe, I'd be out of these boxer shorts - "

"We're about more than sex. At least, I hope we are."

"I talked to Spike. I'm getting the soul."

"So I'll sleep with you again?"

"That's part of the motivation." Debbie turns around. "At least I'm being honest. We're great together, babe. And anything that can bring us closer, I'll do. Plus, once you get the soul, the reason you got it doesn't matter. Hell, Angel didn't even choose his and you like him."

"I'd still kill him for you." Devlin smiles. "I mean, if he tried to get between us." Deb thinks about this. "Okay, that's kind of sick as romantic gestures go - "

"But we're kind of sick to begin with." Deb hugs him.

"God help us."

"You think he'd help me get my soul back?" They both laugh.

"Oh no you don't," Angel says to Spike in the conference room.

"You're scared of a little competition!"

"Does he really want it," Fred asks hopefully.

"It's Debbie," Angel responds. "She wants a vampire with a soul."

"She wants DEV with a soul," Spike replies.

"Whether or not a given vampire desires a soul is irrelevant to us," Wesley asserts.

"I thought you people were about saving souls," Spike asks.

"What's wrong with puttin' a little more good in the world," Fred wonders. Wes is peeved she's pushing for this.

"You took his soul, you give it back," Angel pointedly tells Spike. "This isn't our problem."

"The boy can make a difference. Why won't you give him a chance?"

"Opportunity cost," Gunn finally says.

"What," Spike asks.

"What could we do during the time we'd be helping this vampire?"

"Save the world," Angel surmises. "Save a life."

"If you're so worried about your offspring, perhaps you should keep them from killing," Wes tells Spike, who looks shocked. "Two deaths last night. Both men in their early thirties. One was a partner at a large law firm. The other was a rather well-connected bond trader. The lawyer died in his car. The broker in his bed. Both we found in an aroused state, with their trousers down."

"Leks," Spike asks.

"Who," Fred wonders.

"Elektra. Why would she come back?"

"After all the fun she had last time," Angel offers ruefully, remembering his busted kneecap.

"I can sense Dev when he's close. But I can't sense Leks."

"However, you know where she would go."

"I'll hit the usual haunts tonight."

"The Police Chief is very adamant about finding the culprit."

"I blame the men. What were they doing with a seventeen year-old girl?"

"I don't know. What were you doing with her," Angel asks.

"Oh! You're one to talk when it comes to seventeen year-old girls!"

"Can we stop talkin' about jailbait," Fred requests. "Living or undead?"

"The sacrificed alternative," Gunn announces appropo of nothing.

"Did you get enough sleep," Angel asks him.

"Helping the vampire get his soul is not worth our time."

"Something we agree on."

"But it might be worth the time of our employees. Every minute they spend researching this topic is a minute they can't spend perpetrating evil on this city." Angel tries to think of a rebuttal, but can't. Fred smiles.

"Thank you Charles," Fred says. "You put things in perfect perspective." Wesley feels some residual jealousy. Also, he doesn't like losing an argument, whether or not it's to Fred's old boyfriend. But he has to relent. Who knows what evil potions his men could concoct if he left them to their own devices.

"Better to have the evil ones do busywork," he offers, restating Gunn's point.

"Then it's settled," Spike announces, standing up. "Perfect!"

"Oh what the Hell," Angel concedes. "Maybe I have started a trend. Become an inspiration, even."

"No you haven't," Spike angrily retorts.

"He's taking after you. Who did you take after?" Spike growls and reaches across the table.

"Can ya'al grow up for a second and realize this is a good thing for all of us," Fred asks.

"It is," a mildly alarmed Wesley wonders.

"The more Champions the better, right?"

"Devlin is NOT a champion," Angel barks.

"Champion-in-Training," Spike says in a tongue-in-cheek reference to Sunnydale.

"It will be good to learn the totality of ways to ensoul a vampire," Wesley concedes. "In case we ever have any more emergencies," he adds as an aside to Angel.

"By the way, if anyone needs me this afternoon - ," Spike begins.

"We won't," Angel snaps.

"I have to be at the Los Angeles County School of the Arts at two for a modeling engagement."

"A what," Angel asks.

"Claire suggested it to me. I'm sure your art school girlfriend has had you model."

"Well. Umm - "

"Are you gonna be naked," Fred asks sheepishly.

"I'm not sure. Eh," he shrugs. "I got nothing to be ashamed of."

Alexander finds Elektra waiting at his locker. She wears a sleeveless silver top, short black skirt and high black boots, and her long hair is beautifully coifed. The clothes are from a shopping trip yesterday, and the hair from a stop at the hairdresser's this morning. "You like," she asks.

"Like what," Alex dimly responds.

"My new look."

"Yeah," he says with a goofy smile and a deep breath. "It's, well, what's not to like?"

"You don't look so bad yourself," she replies, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

"Thanks . . . How are your classes," he finally stammers.

"Forgettable. I kept thinking about you." She gazes up into his eyes and smiles. Elektra can actually see him begin to blush.

"I had fun last night."

"Wanna go out tomorrow night? Ya know, for something a little more substantial than coffee."

"Uh, I'm a - I can't." Leks takes her hands off him and feels crushed. Who was he to resist her charms? "There's this class field trip. We leave tomorrow at like five am." Now things were suddenly looking up. Way up.

"Class . . . the Junior class?"

"Yeah."

"The WHOLE Junior class?"

"Yeah." Debbie the Slayer was a junior! This must be what mummy was referring to.

"How long are you going to be gone?"

"We get back Sunday." Two nights. That wasn't a lot of time. But it just might be enough.

"I hope you won't forget about me."

"No. You've made quite an impression." Excellent. No mortal could resist her seductions. And few immortals, come to think of it.

"Here's a little something to remember me by. Last night, I had this dream." She whispers her fantasy into his right ear while putting her left hand on his shoulder and her right hand on his chest. As the story intensifies, she lowers her right hand to his stomach, then his belt. His eyes bug out, and Alex takes a step back.

"Whoa! Here?"

"Not right here," she replies, twirling her hair. "Maybe in a closet. Or the basement. Not much chance of getting caught down there."

"This school has a basement?"

"Oh yeah."

"How do you know? You just got here."

"I like to explore."

"R-right. I could tell, from your little dream."

"I like to say the best way to live your life is to make your dreams into reality."

"Oh. Whoa." He was so delightfully dim. "You wanna, with me?"

"I'm attracted to you. You're attracted to me. Why fight it? Life's too short." Especially when she has her say about it. And Alex's life will indeed be short if he refuses.

"This isn't some sort of prank? Am I being punked?" Elektra rolls her eyes.

"I never joke about that kinda thing. Tell you what: we got the same lunch period. I'll meet you back here then. We'll take things from there." As Elektra walks by, she puts her right hand to Alex's jaw to turn his head so he can watch her walk away. The bell rings, the boy takes several deep breaths, a long drink of water, and rushes off to class.

At a very different school, Claire tries to close the curtains as discreetly as possible before the sculpture class where Spike is to pose. "We need natural light," the teacher insists.

"No you don't. Besides, he's shy. He doesn't want people to peek in."

"This man is a friend of yours?"

"A friend of the family. He did some work for my older brother." Technically, that was true. Spike did kill one of the vampires that was occupying their funeral home. Claire slips out before the students arrive. Spike saunters in five minutes late in his usual black attire.

"Let the fun begin," Anita – Claire's best friend – says to her boyfriend Russell, who happened to be Claire's boyfriend until he slept with their male teacher. Spike takes off his jacket and stands on the pedestal. The male teacher (a different one than Russell slept with) looks at Spike as if the model doesn't understand his role.

"Oh. You want the shirt off." Spike takes it off. The teacher's still looking at him. "The full bloody monty?"

"You do understand that my students are working on the human form," he says condescendingly to the apparently dim model.

"Then why the bloody hell am I here," Spike jokes before taking off his shoes and doffing his pants.

"This is so voyeuristic," Anita says to Russell, who stares at the model. "We're all seeing Claire's boyfriend in the buff. How would you feel if everyone in class saw me naked?"

"Um. Umm. I don't know if that's an, um, apt," he stammers.

"Oh my God. Are you - "

"Anita," the teacher says. "Focus on your own work. Can you please turn forty five degrees to your left," he adds to Spike.

"Like a bloody piece of meat," Spike grumbles as he complies. "I'm getting paid at the end, right?"

Gretchen returns home to Rome, and receives a hug from Giles. "Gosh. It's like I just got back from the Great War," she jokes about his overly enthusiastic welcome. Rupert looks at the bruise under her right eye.

"Are you okay? Are there, er, internal injuries?"

"Not on me. Like I told you already, I gave better than I got."

"I'll say," Dawn offers. "You threw holy water on her breasts and stuck a cross on her, uh, other naughty part," she finishes with an alarmed Buffy glaring at her.

"You told Dawn about that," Buffy asks Gretchen, still trying to protect her sister's innocence.

"That, and a couple other things I didn't tell Giles."

"Like how she ripped the skin off the vampire's chest!"

"My, isn't that a pleasant image right before lunch," Xander quips. Also, the gory detail ruins his ultra-sexy impression of the fight. "By the way, perhaps if you had some more backup, she wouldn't have gotten away. Someone who could blend better in that setting. Not that I go to strip clubs, I just mean - "

"Nicole and Sherri are all right," Giles inquires.

"Nikki should be healed and ready to go in a day or so. But with Yetta and her, ahem, companions gone, I don't know how much more fighting there is in Paris right now. I think we should send them to Lille."

"I'll consider that," Giles replies.

"Don't I get a say," Buffy asks sarcastically.

"Of course," Giles replies with a laugh. Gretchen's so assertive and so close to Giles that sometime Buffy feels the new woman crowds her out.

"Would you call a woman with four girlfriends a slut," Willow asks Kennedy.

"At the same time?"

"Yep."

"I'd call her lucky," Kennedy jokes.

"Is that supposed to be some sort of hint?"

"Will, you know you're the only girl for me. But I would like to get my hands on that vampire. To kill her."

"Right. Not because she's supposed to be some molten-hot sex bomb women will die for."

"Of course not."

"Course, if you did, she might just turn herself into a bird and skedaddle."

"But you could counter her magic."

"Of course. Those simple tricks? Child's play. Then again, conjuring a mirage that moves and talks is pretty advanced. Well below me. But still, pretty up there."

"She would be a fun change of pace. How come I never get naked women thrown at me?"

"Cause then you'd be all work, no play."

"It's always these grungy vampires in some dirty, smelly alley."

"The vampires in Rio don't seem to like the nice neighborhoods," Willow quips.

"They did, but ever since we got here, they've needed better places to hide."

"We've certainly cleaned up this town," Willow says, sitting down on the couch and putting her left arm around Kennedy.

"We're not finished yet. I mean, the vampires are still killing plenty of poor people."

"But you can take one night off."

"Oh. You mean tonight."

"We could stay in, watch some DVDs, snuggle." Kennedy kisses Willow.

"As great as that sounds, I need to show Vida some action."

"As opposed to showing me some action?"

"She's new. She needs experience. But I'll be back."

"You always get back after I'm asleep."

"Then why don't you go to bed later and wake up later? This magic stuff can be done at any time, right?"

"Yes, but when I meditate, I like to be in sync with the tides, and the lunar cycles, in order to maximize - "

"I get it. It's complicated. How bout I call it a night after Vida's killed her first?"

"I don't want people to die because we want to, you know, get busy."

"There's no reason to keep her out too long and risk anything until she's more experienced. No point in wearing her out."

"Do your job. I'll try to drink more coffee. Oh, and if LesboGypsySlut shows up - " Kennedy laughs.

"She won't."

"I know, but if she does, tell me so I can get out my shotgun and shoot her out of the sky."

"We don't have a shotgun."

"It was a joke."

"I know. Besides, if she's as magical as they say, she'll know better than to come near you."

NEXT: Elektra is pissed to discover her new boy used to be Harmony's old boy. Fred tells Devlin about his options. Devlin invites Harmony to a special party. Jeta recalls rescuing some Jews from the Nazis. And Leks tries to remind her brother of his family obligations.


	54. Not While I'm Around

Back in their cozy subterranean home, the family celebrates their hard-fought victory. "Pretty Vacant" plays on the turntable. Spike sits on the bed, his pants off and a bandage around his right upper thigh. Elektra dances for him to the Sex Pistols, which is always difficult. After being teased long enough, Spike bounds off his one good leg and pins Leks against the wall, kissing and pawing the enraptured girl. Drusilla and Devlin sit on the couch, making out. Dev keeps trying to remove her clothes, but Dru demurs. Finally, to calm the worked-up boy, she pulls his head to her chest, stroking his hair and caressing his face as she sings a lullaby:

"Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around.

Nothing's gonna harm you, Devlin, not while I'm around."

The song is from "Sweeney Todd," Stephen Sondheim's musical about a London barber who kills his customers and has his wife bake them into pies to sell them to the unsuspecting public.

"No one's gonna hurt you, no one's gonna dare.

Others can desert you, not to worry, whistle I'll be there," Devlin responds. The lilting melody contrasts sharply with the Pistols. Dru tries to rock him to sleep to an entirely separate melody playing only in her head. "I mean that mom," Dev adds. "I could gaze into your eyes all night." Spike, having finished manhandling Elektra, tosses the gleeful girl to the floor. She stares at the water dripping from the ceiling and smiles ear to ear.

"Mind if I cut in," he asks the smooching couple. Dru stands up, and her man takes her in his arms. She purrs. "Care for a nightcap, luv?" Dru growls and snaps her jaws.

"Mind if I cut out," Dev asks bitterly as he lights up a cigarette.

"Me too," Elektra says as she rushes over to her brother.

"But you've had a long night, deary."

"Shouldn't you stay in and lick your wounds," Spike suggests.

"I'd rather you lick them for me."

"I thought I already did."

"Let Dev," Dru offers to Leks. "He's a lovely licker."

"Are you insane," Leks asks before laughing, along with Spike. Dev doesn't appreciate the joke at his mother's expense. "Dev'll look out for me. He's the King of Careful."

"All right," Spike says with a sigh. "Bloody kids these days. You take good care of her, son."

"Don't worry dad. She'll come back with all her parts. Some of them might not be attached." The rest of the family does not care for Dev's dark humor at this moment.

"Have fun," Spike finally responds. "Remember your curfew."

"What if it's cloudy," Leks whines.

"Clouds can melt," Dru replies.

"I'll bring her back, even if I have to knock her unconscious and drag her back," Dev promises.

Dru senses her boy still feels neglected and walks up to her son, licks his right cheek, and whispers "you were brilliant tonight" into his right ear before biting the earlobe. It's the first time she's ever called him brilliant, and this perks the boy right up. That, and her right hand grabbing his crotch.

"Won't be long before we're killing Slayers together," Spike promises, further boosting his son's spirits. Dev and Leks walk out. He pulls on her long hair. She hits his shoulder, and they roughhouse before ascending to street level. Dev's not hungry, and Leks is less hungry than usual. But no child likes to be around when their parents are doing it. Especially when the children want to do the parents themselves.

"You're grumpy," she tells her brother.

"I'm always grumpy."

"Is it cause mummy won't have you?"

"In the sense that that would make me happy, yes."

"Do you ever daydream about her? What's your favorite fantasy?"

"This isn't a crush," he replies, denigrating her feelings for Spike. "I care deeply for Drusilla. It's more than sexual attraction."

"My favorite one is when we're in the Bahamas. I bring him pretty girls. He brings me cute boys. We feast, then go sailing, and skinny dip in the ocean. We make love on the beach under the stars. Then go home and sleep, and make more love, and eat the people we keep stashed in the basement for a midday snack. And sometimes, we drive into town and go shopping, then just race down the roads on his motorbike - "

"Spike has a motorbike in your dream? What kind?"

"I dunno. Doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. Is it a scooter? Dad would never drive a scooter."

"Whatever he drives, he drives it really fast. And I'm holding so tight I'm almost cracking his ribs. Then I get in front of him, and we kiss, and we do it, and we're going like ninety while we're doing it, and the wind's blowing through my hair - "

"Cheesy."

"No it's not," she yells, slapping his face as they walk down the empty street.

"It's cheesy. And tacky. And lame."

"Oh yeah! What's your fantasy?"

"We're in Vienna. I'm wearing a tux. She's in this incredible red gown, and we're waltzing in a palace."

"Bor-ing!"

"We go to the opera, and I grab the hat check girl and take her to our private box. Then, during the opera, we slowly drain her. Make her last through the whole first act. During the intermission, we walk through the lobby hand-in-hand. And she's wearing these white lace gloves."

"Bor-ing!"

"Any idiot can imagine eating and screwing. It's the other stuff that takes creativity and refinement."

"With Spike, there wouldn't be any time for the other stuff," she replies with a smile. "Ooh. Look at her," she says, pointing to a woman on the other side of the street.

"I'm not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood." Leks runs several blocks to the north and west, honing in on the next nearest warm body. "I could definitely sink my teeth into him."

"You can do better. Even at this late hour."

"See, this is what I love about being a vampire."

"I thought you loved the killing?

"That too."

"And the Spike ravaging."

"That definitely too. But I also love the choosing. Every person I see, I get to decide, does he living or does he die. We're gods!"

"No. We're just killers. In the big scheme of things, even vampires are pawns, powerless to control their own destiny."

"Gawd, you're a bummer. If you didn't keep saving my life, I'd totally ditch you for someone way cooler."

"Guess who," Elektra asks Alexander from behind as he gets his books out of his locker. Alex jumps.

"Alexa!"

"Did I scare you?"

"Uh, no. I'm just, uhh - "

"Did you think about me in class?"

"Y-y-yeah. I-I-I guess I did."

"Time to stop thinking."

"W-w-what do you wanna do?"

"Relax. Just put these books away," she says before throwing them in the locker and slamming the door, "and follow me," she concludes, grabbing his hand.

"Wait."

"Why?"

"I can't just - "

"Yes you can." She leans in and kisses him lightly on the lips, brushing her body against his. "Now let's hurry. We don't have all day."

"Hurry where?"

"Downstairs, silly." Elektra grabs his arm and leads him to a door.

"Isn't that locked?" She grabs the handle and rips the door open.

"No." Perhaps this should have tipped Alex off. But Alexa was very pretty, and who was he to turn down a few minutes of groping? Alex follows the siren downstairs. She pulls him close, they start to kiss, and Elektra flips on the lights.

"Why'd you do that?"

"Down you wanna see me," she asks, taking off her shirt. Alex's jaw drops.

"Oh, oh, I, uh, uh, I didn't know we were, I didn't know you'd - "

"Relax. And count your blessings." Elektra locks lips with him again as she undoes his shirt.

"Mummy said the weirdest thing to me just now," Elektra tells Devlin as they continue walking the deserted streets of downtown Manhattan.

"She always says weird things. You'll get used to it."

"She wants me to fuck you."

"What?"

"You heard me. Isn't that gross? No offense."

"None taken. It's disgusting!"

"Hey! You don't think I'm hot?"

"You're pretty."

"Thank you."

"And?"

"And what?"

"You're supposed to say I'm handsome."

"But you're not." Devlin looks a little hurt.

"Maybe not compared to Spike."

"No Devlin. Not, period."

"Thanks a lot. I've saved your life twice - in a month!"

"I know. And I love you for it," she maintains, wrapping her arms around her brother. "But that doesn't change the fact you're not hot."

"Spike also thinks we should do it."

"What?" Elektra lets go of Dev and looks concerned.

"He was wondering why I haven't nailed you."

"Don't I get a say in the matter?"

"As the baby in the family, no. Not that I'd ever take advantage of my status against your will."

"Spike wants me to fuck you? That sucks! He should want me to fuck him. I'd do anything for him, and this is how he treats me?"

"I guess he figured I'd be less obsessed with mom if someone else was in the mix." Leks thought she was sired to be Spike's plaything. Not Devlin's. This raised serious existential issues for her.

"I don't believe it. You're lying."

"Why would I lie about incest? It's disgusting!"

"Totally. I guess it was normal in the olden days when mum and daddy were growing up. But there was also slavery. And sexism."

"Yes. Some things are better left in the past," Dev deadpans, mildly confused by his sister's analogy.

"If daddy wants me to find a boy, then I'll find a boy. But it's gonna be my choice."

"Oh God. Oh God," Alex moans, shocked by what is transpiring. Elektra hated it when men invoked the Almighty at times like this. It made what she was doing seem bad. And not in a good way.

"You are one dynamite boy," Elektra responds as she rocks back and forth, her hands on his chest so she can feel his heart race.

"This wasn't what I was expecting."

"Even better, isn't it?" She leans down and licks and kisses his neck so she can feel his pulse on her lips and tongue.

"Are you, are we safe?"

"Don't worry, Alex. I'm no dummy." She kisses him on the mouth, biting his lip before arching her body back up. "Best lunch period ever, huh?"

"Oh. Oh God. Oh, oh Alexa." What keeps racing through Alex's his head is that this is too good to be true. Here was this girl he barely knew throwing herself on top of him. Kind of like how Harmony was too good to be true.

"Is something wrong, Alex?" He looks worried to her. That is not a look Leks is used to seeing when she's naked and on top of a man. He sits up and starts kissing her breasts. That was better. She holds his head to her chest, not knowing Alex is listening for her heart, which he fails to hear. Alex looks at her, their faces barely an inch apart.

"Are you a, a - " She interrupts his stammering to kiss him again. The boy was beginning to have performance issues, which did not happen to men when they were with her. "Vampire?" Elektra starts giggling.

"You mean a vamp?"

"No." Elektra slams his back to the ground and pins his arms. "You are one."

"One what?"

"A vampire."

"Vampires aren't real."

"Yeah they are."

"How do you know?" Elektra starts laughing. "You mean I'm not your first? How kinky."

"I don't believe this. I don't fucking believe this," he says to himself as he struggles to escape.

"Relax, Alex. I just wanna have some fun. Nothing serious."

"Did Harmony tell you? Is this her way of - "

"Did you just say Harmony," Leks asks, her teeth coming out and her eyes going yellow.

"Aiigghhhh," he screams, never having seen a vampire's true face. Elektra grabs his neck with her left hand.

"Stop being such a baby and tell me what that awful, awful name means to you."

"Help!" She squeezes his neck.

"Someone comes, you die, then they die. Keep your mouth shut, get me off, and everybody lives. It's a no-brainer. Now I'm going to let you breathe so you can tell me about this Harmony." She stops strangling Alex.

"We met at a party."

"You fucked her?"

"Uh-huh."

"Gawd! I don't fucking believe this! That bitch! That clumsy, untalented bitch!" She gets off Alex and puts her shirt back on. He stands up and tries to flee, but his pants are around his ankles. "Forgot you shirt," she says, throwing it in his face. "I find a perfect little stud muffin and she has to ruin it for me. What did I ever do to her?"

"I don't know what, um, I don't wanna know . . . bye." His pants up and his shirt on but unbuttoned, he tries to get away, but Elektra grabs Alex and throws him against the wall.

"Not so fast, stud muffin." Alex shakes as he watches Leks slowly saunter towards him, a bare light bulb illuminating her awful yet still alluring features. "Boys don't run away from me." She caresses his face, then kisses it. He can't believe his bad luck.

"Why me? Why does this keep happening to me?" Elektra returns to her human face. Once again, she looks so innocent. So terribly innocent.

"Let's see . . . you're hot. And you smell good."

"What," he asks as she leans in to sniff and fondle him.

"Some boys give off a scent that draws us to them. Face it – you're demon bait." She gives him a little peck on the lips, turns and walks away. He stands there, terrified. Right before climbing up the stairs she turns around. "By the way, if it wasn't for Little Debbie Owen, you'd be dead by now. Maybe you should start hanging around her. She's the only one who can protect you from us." And with that, she disappears. Perhaps her name-dropping will cause this handsome boy to hang around Debbie, and perhaps she'll far for him and dump Devlin. It was worth a shot. Anything to separate her brother from the Slayer.

"You called?" Fred turns around.

"Devlin!"

"I hope I didn't scare you." She giggles.

"Please. You're really not that scary." Devlin winces.

"Who's a guy gotta kill to get respect around here," he darkly jokes. Fred shivers.

"Here's the information." He opens the envelope and takes a look.

"Trials, leaps of faith . . . where's the souls for sale?"

"They cost a lot. Sorry Devlin."

"I have five hundred thousand in the bank. If need be, I could probably leverage a million."

"Dollars?"

"No, Yen. Of course dollars. You find the guy, I'll find the money." Fred's dubious of his boast.

"How does a vampire get that kind of money?"

"A lot of bad people will pay good money for my services."

"You mean like a hitman?"

"For starters. Now go order someone to find out about monetary offers. I'm only going to jump through flaming hoops if I absolutely have to. Unlike my dad, I weigh my options before deciding."

"Sure. I'll see what I can do to help." Better than doing Wolfram & Hart's nefarious bidding. "By the way, I think it's great you're doin' this." Fred smiles. Dev smiles.

"You're very sweet." He takes a long pause. "How do you and Spike get along?"

"Um, great." She's a little surprised by the question.

"Really! Are you close?"

"Kinda."

"You would consider him a friend?"

"Yeah. You bet."

"Interesting," he says with a smirk. "It's funny to think of all the fun things the Spike I knew would have done to you if you ever met him." Fred does not look amused. "Well, it's funny to me. I guess that will change when I get my soul. Thanks for the info, friend." Devlin leaves as Fred quivers. He may not be scary, but he sure is creepy.

"What if I chase the homeless man into the street so he gets hit by a car," Elektra asks Devlin. "That way, I can eat him, plus the driver."

"You cause a traffic accident, you cause a public scene. We shouldn't go causing public scenes where we spend the day." Dev's great fear is being staked in his sleep.

"You're no fun," she pouts.

"That's why mommy and daddy want me to watch over you. Too much fun can be deadly."

"Too much fun can also be wonderful."

"Race you to the top," Dev says, pointing to a twenty story office building. Leks smiles, runs over and leaps onto the facade. She beats Dev to the summit by five seconds.

"Slowpoke."

"It's a pointless skill."

"What if you need to get away from humans?"

"I can still scale a building faster than them," Devlin jokes. "It's not like we have to worry about Spiderman."

"I wish superheroes were real."

"Who's to say they're not," Devlin jokes. "Not too long ago, neither of us thought vampires were real."

"That makes no sense."

"You think you know everything that's out there?"

"Mummy and daddy tell me stories."

"I'm sure there's stuff out there even they haven't seen."

"Like Boy Slayers?"

"In your dreams."

"Hey! Who told you about that?"

"Does it change how you look at the world, being a vampire," he asks as they gaze at the taller skyscrapers nearby, like the MetLife and Woolworth buildings.

"You're damn right! I wasn't always trying to get with boys when I was human. Or wanting to kill them."

"I meant, does knowing vampires are real change how you see the world?" Elektra doesn't get it.

"I AM a vampire."

"So, doesn't it blow your mind that's even possible?"

"It's really cool. I have all these abilities. I can jump off this building and live."

"I'm still getting used to the concept of there being this whole other world that the regular world doesn't know about. By the way, I wouldn't try jumping. We're not indestructible. Think about tonight." He thinks about it for a few seconds. "Were you scared?"

"No."

"Not even when they had you on the ground?"

"I knew daddy would save me. He never loses."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Daddy is indestructible," Elektra angrily yells, grabbing Dev.

"Are you trying to throw me off?"

"Nobody talks jive about Spike!" Devlin puts his kid sis in a headlock and they horse around for a while near the ledge. He eventually grabs her legs and dangles her over the edge. She screams with delight.

"Scared now?"

"Do it! I'll just fly away." Dev pulls his sister back up.

"We can't fly."

"You can't. Gimme time. I'll learn how." Dev lights up a smoke and travels to the other side of the roof to look north towards the Empire State Building.

"Hey! Wait up!" She scurries after him. He tosses her a cigarette and a lighter and she lights up as well, in imitation of Spike. "I'm gonna fly. I can do anything." He exhales through his nose.

"Say you can. What happens when someone shoots you down?"

"You are such a party pooper." She charges him, he leaps away and they bound after one another twenty stories up.

File in hand, Devlin goes upstairs to see Harmony. He's wearing black jeans, a gray tank top and a black trench coat. Her eyes light up when she sees him. "Dev! I mean, Dev," she adds in a conspiratorial whisper, sitting back down.

"Relax. We're alone. Where's your boss?"

"Saving someone or, something. I dunno."

"Don't care?"

"Not really." Devlin looks down at her with his mischievous half-smile and his twinkling eyes that appear to hide a thousand half-thought-out schemes.

"Have you done anything with the money?"

"Money? Oh! That. I've been laying low," she whispers. "Until the heat is off."

"You ever miss killing?" The question takes her by surprise. She prefers not to think about that, since it would only tempt her.

"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know." Then her face tightens as she realizes he's being hypocritical. "Wait a second. You gave up killing, too. And it was a choice!"

"No one forced you to take this job."

"No one forced you to sleep with a Slayer."

"Touche. We each get compensated in our own way."

"Yeah, but you're the one getting a soul. Is that why you're here? Did they put it in already?"

"No. I'm still potentially bad. There's a certain thrill in denying one's true nature. I'm going to miss that."

"Is this for your Slayer Skank? I mean, girlfriend. Was she embarrassed to be with a vampire who didn't have a soul? Since that's like, how it's usually done."

"Actually, Spike told me Buffy never did him after he got a soul, so, assuming she did Angel only once, as best as I know, it's usually done the way Debbie and I did it."

"She only slept with Spike before? Ick. I never knew Buffy was so kinky. So why are you doing it?"

"Ask my dad. I've always been a weird vampire. I never really enjoyed killing people in and off itself. Killing vampires: now I've always loved that."

"More than people?"

"Vampires put up more of a fight. For instance, I imagine you would last thirty seconds before becoming dust." Harmony stands up and puts her hands on her hips.

"Is that a threat?"

"Hardly. If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead." She steps out from behind her desk and gets in Dev's face. He's not that much taller than her.

"I'd like to see you try, little man."

"No you wouldn't. I got how many years on you?"

"Big deal. I'm a survivor. I've taken on the best, and I'm still here. So if you knew what was good for you, you wouldn't be messing with me." He just stares at her and smiles. "Are you getting turned on by this," she nervously asks, taking a step back.

"I'm starting to see what Spike saw in you."

"Okay, this is getting a little icky," she replies, walking away.

"I'm also starting to see what Sidney sees in you." Harmony spins around.

"Excuse me?"

"Girl's got a crush on you."

"What? Oh. Figures," she says, suddenly becoming blase. "She's into that kinda thing."

"Actually, you're the only woman I know of who's turned Sidney on." This is something for Harmony to think about.

"You mean I'm her Charlize Theron?" Devlin doesn't know what this means. The first thing that occurs to him is that Theron is South African and so was the Slayer he killed. So Harmony's comment reminds him of a pleasant but completely unrelated memory.

"Should I tell Sidney you're interested?"

"I need to go," she responds, putting on her coat and rushing to the elevator. Devlin follows her.

"How about I give you a ride home?"

"I can walk."

"You know one of the good things about getting a soul is that it makes me off limits to Buffy. Imagine how she'll feel when she finds out the vampire who kneecapped her Slayers is untouchable." This brings a smile to Harmony's face.

"You're right. That will piss her off."

"You never told me what happened when you went up against Buffy. Would you mind?"

"It's really not that interesting."

"To me it is." Harmony glows. It's so rare to be around someone who seems to care about her life.

Anita spends Thursday night hanging out in Claire's room. "Your boyfriend's got a hot bod for an older guy. How old is he?"

"A hundred and something."

"I meant, how old was he when he, ya know, became eternal?"

"He won't say. Then again, I've never really asked. I don't like making him talk about his past."

"Why bother, when there's all that fabulous screwing to be had?" Claire blushes. "Come on Claire. He's like the Energizer Bunny, isn't he?"

"There's a disturbing thought: fucking a bunny," she jokes.

"Whatever he's got, it rubbed off on Russell."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's means, after class, after looking at your boyfriend's naked bod for an hour, he took me downstairs, and we did it in the dark room."

"What," Claire exclaims. She stands up and looks pissed.

"Best sex we've ever had. Fucking amazing."

"That little asshole. How could he do this to me?"

"Claire, I was the one he was doing."

"He knows that's where I develop my pictures. He's knows I'm one of the only ones who uses it, now that everybody's gone digital. He did this to hurt me."

"Earth to Claire: the world does not revolve around you."

"I can't believe it. He's mad that I didn't give him credit for my art."

"This wasn't about your stupid paper-mache masks."

"Stupid? You think they're stupid?"

"Sorry, bad choice of words. I'm sorry I told you about this. I'm sorry I thought you'd be interested in my life instead of turning everything back around to you." She stalks out.

"Anita, wait." Anita slams the door. Claire sits down on her bed, dejected. After a few seconds she decides to call Spike's cell. "Guess who?"

"Claire!"

"Did the class go well?"

"It wus fine. They paid me at the end."

"Where are you?"

"On Sunset. Looking for a killer." He's trying to find Elektra.

"Mind if I tag along?"

"Yeah. Cuz I like you, and I'd mind if you got killed."

"I thought you protected girls like me?"

"I do. Sometimes, just by telling them to stay home."

"Come on," she whines, eager for some quick fun to make her forget her troubles.

"I'm on business, luv."

"What about tomorrow?"

"Depends on how tonight goes."

"You're blowing me off."

"I'm trying to save lives. Look," Spike says before sighing. "Fine. Tomorrow night."

"Great! Meet me at school, a little after sundown?"

"It's a date. Most killers don't come out until after ten anyway." Spike gets back to his hunt, knowing Elektra likes loud places with lots of horny men. Problem is, that could describe just about every place on the Strip.

As Jeta looks out the window on the overnight train from Bordeaux to Bilbao, she recalls the last time she was in Gascony sixty years ago, on the run from another fearsome enemy. A group of about two hundred Jews make their way at night towards the border. The Nazis and their local collaborators have discovered their hiding spots. Those fortunate enough to escape know their only salvation lies in making it across the mountainous border. They hear the rumble of an engine, and try to find cover in the brush. But two soldiers on a motorcycle and side car have spotted the group and bounce across the terrain towards them. They stand up and point guns at the frightened people. A few who run are shot in the back. But out of nowhere, a creature grabs one of the soldiers from behind and bites down on his neck. He screams in agony as his partner looks on in disbelief. When the monster finishes with her first victim, she smiles at the other soldier, blood running down her chin. He shoots twice, but it barely slows her down. She leaps on the man and drains him as well.

The refugees, relieved to be free of one enemy, look wearily at their bloodthirsty savior. "I will lead you to freedom," she announces in German as if trying to pose as an undead Moses. About a third of the crowd understands her. "The SS is afraid of Gypsies. They fear our curses." A few Jews laugh nervously. They don't think that's quite why the Nazis would fear her. "The only safety you have is with me," she declares ominously. Jeta can hear German trucks approaching on a nearby road. "They are coming! Hide for your lives." The Jews seek cover, desiring to escape from their oppressors as well as their self-proclaimed protector. Jeta picks up a sub-machine gun from one of the dead soldiers. When about twenty of the enemy approaches, she tosses the gun forward, then uses her powers to suspend the weapon in mid-air. The floating gun fires wildly, taking out four soldiers and bewildering the rest. Jeta closes her eyes, holds out her arms, and chants in Romani, causing her to levitate a foot off the ground and be surrounded by a red glow. The Germans decide genocide isn't worth this kind of hassle and make a run for it. The chanting and light show were just that. Jeta couldn't hurt them, only make them frightened. But that was all she needed.

The refugees realize they have fallen into the clutches of a powerful demon or evil angel. "As if the Germans weren't enough," an old man darkly quips to his wife in French.

Friday morning, at five, Devlin drives Debbie to the school, where buses are waiting to take them north. She's looking through the re-ensoulment options provided by Wolfram & Hart. "Any that you like?"

"They'll be more coming today," he replies.

"You don't sound so enthusiastic."

"I don't see the point of going through ordeals. It's irrational and barbaric."

"Are you scared?"

"No. Just, uneasy. Anyway, I'm not the sort who does well at these things."

"How do you know?"

"It's not in my nature. I like circumstances I can control. Ordeals are about giving yourself over to another power to do with you what it wants."

"Sometimes you have to give up control to get what you really want. You do want this?"

"I want you. And if this is what it takes." Debbie looks away from him. "Oh, give it up! This is a big step. No vampire in my position has ever done this. And I'm doing it for you. I'm risking my life, I'm making myself into a tortured guilt monster, for you."

"Tortured guilt monster? I hope you're more fun than that," she jokes.

"Maybe it won't be that bad. As vampires go, I've never been especially cruel. Spike was always disappointed in me."

"Good for you," she half-jokes.

"We'll talk about the options when you get back. I won't do anything while you're gone. And I'm not expecting any Gypsies to curse me in the meantime. I don't recall ever doing anything to their people."

"Let's hope you're right. I wouldn't exactly want a defective vampire." Angel would be hurt if he knew that's what Debbie thought of him. She leans over and kisses them, neither wanting to say goodbye. After half a minute, there's a knock on the window. It's Cynthia.

"Saved you a seat." Debbie kisses Devlin a little more before stepping out. She takes her backpack from the trunk and walks toward the buses. Cynthia is joined by her boyfriend Theo.

"I think the sun's coming up," he says as they pass their friend Diego, who's making out with Sidney. Up ahead, Alexander watches the happy couple say goodbye by playing tonsil hockey. He wishes he had a relationship like that. The irony is he doesn't know Sidney's a vampire, and Diego's type of relationship is exactly what he's trying to get away from.

Late that afternoon, the doorbell at Debbie's house rings. Dev opens it, staying in the shadow. "Just drop it in here."

"I need you to sign," the messenger says. Devlin tosses a twenty across the open door.

"Forge it." The man takes the money, tosses the package inside and leaves. Devlin opens it and takes a look at the documents. Then he picks up the phone. "Hello Winifred. I just received my package. Thanks again."

"How did you get my cell number," she asks, worried.

"That's a very interesting question. Tell Wesley Wyndham-Price thank you. You two are still a couple, right?" Fred hangs up and looks nervous.

"Is everything all right," Knox asks.

"Yeah. Just a . . . yeah." Devlin could make his ordinariness subtly terrifying when he wanted.

That night, Devlin's watching television to relieve his boredom when he hears a knock at the door. "That's funny. I didn't order anything. There's another knock. "Keep that up and I'll rip you're lungs out." He opens the door to see his sister.

"I'd like to see you try," she responds.

"Come on in." She tries, but can't. "Sorry, an invite from a vampire doesn't do the trick."

"Why don't you ask little Debbie to invite me in? Oh. That's right. She's gone." Devlin smiles.

"You did your homework."

"I thought I'd take a page from your book. I think you know why I'm here."

"To watch girls with special powers who have their own tv shows? Great. I'd love to talk about that. Am I the only one who thinks the Cute Guy avatar looks like a cross between Angel and Jeff Buckley? I wonder what would happen if Joan slept with him. Would he turn into the Devil? Nah. It's been done."

"It's not the time to try to be funny."

"If not now, then when?"

"After you've killed a Slayer."

"Already have."

"And it was fun."

"You bet. But I've moved on. The only thing better than killing a Slayer is fucking one. Which you wouldn't know, having done neither."

"I can kill a Slayer."

"Then why haven't you?"

"You know they travel in pairs now."

"Yes. I like to think I had something to do with that."

"I need you to kill one so I can kill the other."

"There are other vampires."

"Tried them. No luck."

"It is hard to find good help. When you're evil. When you become good, it's surprisingly easy."

"You're not good. You may be able to fool the Slayer, but I know you haven't changed."

"Thank you for the Angel impression."

"I sound sound like Nick Lachey? Ewww!"

"Have you tried separating them?"

"They stick together."

"Lesbians," Devlin asks with a smile.

"No. Just smart. And they got this wicked weapon. Scares all the other vamps shitless."

"Very interesting. Now if you'll excuse me - "

"Wait! I'm desperate. I need help. And you're the only one who can give it. You've always been there for me."

"Touching. But family bonds aren't what they once were. Look at mom and dad."

"You want to follow in Spike's footsteps? Become Angel's lackey? Why not. You're already a Slayer's boy toy."

"I prefer to think of myself as a thorn in Angel's side."

"What about being a thorn in Buffy's side?"

"That too. You hear about the ambush?"

"Of course. Don't know why you didn't finish them off, though."

"You never did understand the precepts of limited war."

"What I do understand is the only thing standing between me ruling the Hellmouth and restoring our family's honor are two little girls named Rona and Vi." Devlin takes a step outside onto the porch and shuts the door. "Those names mean something to you, bro?"

"They're Veterans."

"Figured. They're way more confident than the other Slayers I've battled."

"They're Ultra-Veterans. Two-thirds of The Trio."

"The Trio?"


	55. How to impress vamps, influence people

Devlin must choose between his sister and his girlfriend. Or, can he please both? Meanwhile, Harmony goes on a hot date that might just be a little hotter than she planned.

"The redhead, the black girl and the lesbian."

"They a girl group or something," Elektra jokes.

"The lesbian's the leader. She dates the Witch, who looks a lot like Spike's new girlfriend, coincidentally or not."

"Daddy's got a girlfriend. Human?"

"Yeah."

"I'll have to kill her. Once I'm done with these Slayers." Devlin paces along the porch as he looks down and strategizes.

"You eliminate Rona and Vi, that puts a gaping hole in their command structure."

"So my big bro's coming around," Elektra exults.

"I can tell you how to do it. Maybe put you in contact with a vampire who can help. There's a few Slayer killers in South America and the Far East who haven't been doing much."

"Guys?"

"Uh-huh."

"Cool. I'll have my way with them after you help me kill the Slayers. If they're cute."

"You don't need me." Elektra grabs his arm and spins Dev around.

"Yes, I do! I've put my reputation, our family's reputation, on the line here. We kill these Slayers, everything changes. No more laughing at us. No more making fun of our lineage. They'll fucking worship the ground we walk on."

"I prefer not to be worshipped," he cooly answers. "Too much implied responsibility."

"Okay. I get it. You're whipped. Won't do anything Little Debbie doesn't want."

"I have no need to kill another Slayer."

"What about tying dad's mark?"

"I've already surpassed him in other ways."

"Debbie doesn't have to know. We leave tonight. Kill them tomorrow. You take the red eye and get back here before she does. It's just like mom said. We can do this!"

"Mom? What about her?"

"She says you're the one I need."

"Unless she's saying I'm the one SHE needs - "

"Maybe you will be, after killing this Slayer."

"Nonsense. She wanted Angel and he's killed no Slayers."

"You're afraid."

"Please."

"You don't think you can stand up to Veterans."

"I stood up to them when they came after Debbie. Have you considered roadside bombs? Or perhaps land mines? Slayers are vulnerable to anti-personnel weapons. Just be sure to include plenty of shrapnel."

"You've changed."

"Because I don't kill?"

"No. You've never been much of a killer. Not compared to me. But the Dev I knew would want it all: the Slayer to nail and the Slayer to kill. You can have it all. I'm not asking you to abandon this lame suburban life."

"Debbie would find out."

"A-ha! You want to do it."

"I didn't say that."

"You're thinking it."

"I think about a lot of things I don't do."

"Yes, but this isn't just another kill. It's the ultimate."

"You don't get it, sis. I'm finally happy! I have someone who loves me."

"Damn, you're just like daddy. Except for the hot part."

"The risk is too big. The reward too small."

"Liberating the Hellmouth? That's small? This sort of victory could turn things around."

"For a few months, maybe. Buffy would just fill the gaps in her organization and get back to her campaign of extermination."

"And you're just gonna let her kill us all?"

"I don't care for most vampires. The world would be better off without them."

"First she goes for the losers. And you don't care, cause you're not a loser. Then she comes after me, but you don't care, cause you're not me. And then, when she comes after you, they'll be no one left to help you."

"You really have been doing your homework. It sounds like you've even read a book or two."

"You attacked her, and she won't forget that. She sure as hell won't forgive you." Dev knew Leks had a point. He had killed one of her Slayers, maimed a dozen others, and sent the severed head of a Watcher to her headquarters. Would getting a soul save him? Perhaps, if Spike stood up for him. But even then, she'd be too proud to let him win. On the other hand, what chance did he stand if he chose to fight her? She'd beaten much more powerful vampires. So both options entailed a lot of risk.

"You're right. So why should I piss her off even more by killing someone she was actually close to?"

"Because it'll slow her down. And how will she know you did this? Queen B thinks you're in the O.C."

"Please don't use that expression. It's really annoying, and I tend to behead people who say it."

"All you got is time. Slayers start dyin', it'll take 'em longer to kill us off. But if they just keep winning, if nobody stands up to them, won't be long before she comes for you with everything she's got and crushes you."

"You've definitely put a lot of thought into this, sis," he condescendingly compliments her. "But I already have plans."

"Liar."

"No lie."

"Then cancel them."

"Why? What's in this for me?"

"What you live for, bro: Glory."

"Glory's a substitute for love. I've found love." Leks gags.

"You are disgusting." She grabs his jaw. "Mummy should wash your mouth out with holy water. Hell, you'd probably like it."

"Why doesn't she help you?"

"And deny us our moment? We'll never grow up if our parents are always there to back us up."

"I sympathize with you. But I'm sorry." Leks gets indignant.

"Every time I have needed someone, you have always been there for me. Maybe mummy and daddy don't believe in family loyalty, but I thought you were better. I thought you had honor.

"If I'm always there, how can you grow up," he asks, rephrasing her earlier point. This just makes her more angry.

"The Hellmouth. Two primo Slayers. A golden opportunity. You wanna make history, flight's at 10:25. This is history, Devlin. Right now, this is history. Don't you want to be a part of history?" And with that, Elektra gets in the car she took from the man she killed Wednesday morning and drives north.

"Trust me, that's not the most embarrassing way to go," Claire tells Spike after he explained Elektra's methods without revealing that he's the one who bit her. "I've heard far worse."

"I should've known. If anyone spends more time around death that me - "

"It's the girl who lives in a funeral home and has a dead boyfriend." Spike's a little upset by the joke. "I didn't mean it like - "

"I know."

"So, where do you look for this vampire?"

"Anywhere there's randy men in the mood for a quick one."

"Which is just about everywhere in this town."

"You see my problem."

Harmony nervously knocks on the door and Sidney opens it. Harmony wears a short pink dress. Sidney's in yellow leather pants and a powder blue halter top. "Harm! You look smokin'."

"Oh no. I'm overdressed," Harmony responds as she enters.

"Well, if you want, you could take your dress off," Sidney jokes flirtatiously, wigging Harmony out. "I know my boys wouldn't mind." Harmony sees Paul, in a black shirt, black pants and silver blazer, and Luiz, in jeans, a Sepultura t-shirt and a black leather jacket.

"Howdy Harm," Paul says with a smile. "I missed you."

"Thanks," she replies with a smile, not used to hearing that sentiment. "Uh, don't you have girlfriends? And a boyfriend?"

"They're gone for the weekend," Sid explains. "It's just us vampires."

"And Dev. Who's, also a vampire. Where is he?"

"He said he had business to take care of in Mexico," Luiz says. "Something about a gang from Juarez."

"So it's just us four," Harmony realizes, folding her arms across her chest nervously.

"Four's a good number," Sid replies, gently running her right hand down Harmony's left arm. She trembles.

"You're shivering," Paul notes, putting Sidney's red Italian leather coat over Harmony's shoulders. Harmony looks up at him and smiles. Luiz tosses Sid her yellow leather jacket which matches her pants.

"Real romantic, Lou."

"So this is about romance, now?"

"Um, where are we going," Harmony wonders.

"This club up in Newport," Paul answers.

"Ritzy and sleazy, just how I like it," Sidney explains. "Used to be crawling with high-class vamps looking for rich young victims, before we killed 'em all."

"Did I ever tell you about the vampire I killed at work? She tried to frame me for murder and take my job."

"The way Devlin tells it, that's just a normal day at Wolfram & Hart," Sidney states.

"What does Devlin know about Wolfram & Hart," Harmony asks scornfully. "I know what it's really like."

"So what's it like," Paul inquires. Harmony realizes these three people are interested – no, fascinated – with her. "Is there embezzlement, and how can I get involved?"

"Hold on," Sid says, putting a pitcher on the coffee table. "Drink up. You're not gonna get any of this where we're going. The three vampires each fill up their glasses. Paul fills up Harmony's and hands it to her.

"This isn't human, right," Harmony asks.

"Nope," Paul responds. "That stuff's too hard to get."

"Actually, it's easy to get," Luiz points out. "Just not easy to get away with." Sid, Luiz and Paul laugh. Harmony doesn't. She's repressed the killer instinct more than they have.

"To new friends," Sidney offers, raising her glass and glancing at Harmony.

"To new friends," Paul seconds, smiling at Harm. They all clink glasses and down the blood.

Outside, Harmony's three new friends argue about which car to take. "How bout mine," she asks.

"Whatchya got," Sidney wonders. She points at a pink Cadillac. "No way!"

"What year is that," Luiz asks. Paul rushes over.

"1973. Almost mint condition."

"Less than twenty thousand miles," Harmony reports.

"How'd you afford that on a secretary's salary," Sidney wonders. "You got something on the side?"

"Yeah. You guys."

"Dev didn't give you enough to buy this," Paul states.

"I talked the guy down by threatening to kill him," Harmony boasts.

"Shotgun," Sidney calls.

"No," Paul objects.

"Dontchya wanna sit wit me," Luiz asks. Sidney smiles.

"You're right. I like picking on you." They get in back. Harmony and Paul get in front.

"I'm really glad you made it," he tells her, putting his left hand on her right knee. He growls. She growls back, then steps on the pedal, causing the engine to growl.

"You sure I'm not keeping you from life-saving," Claire asks Spike as they sit in the dark room.

"I don't think she's out tonight. Not yet."

"You know this vampire?"

"Not well," Spike lies.

"Look at this one," she says, showing Spike a picture she took of him.

"Not bad."

"It's not that hard to make you look good." They smile at each other. Claire kisses him and sits on his lap, straddling him.

"Whoa. In here? What if someone walks in?" When it's not Buffy, all of a sudden he's concerned about having sex in public.

"Door's locked. It's ten on a Friday. No one's here."

"Maybe I should patrol. Make sure no one's getting killed."

"Didn't you just say she's not out?" She takes her shirt an leans in to bite his right ear.

"Well, I do make a good argument," he jokes, deciding that life-saving can wait.

He needn't have worried. Elektra is at the airport, hiding on the tarmac, waiting for Devlin. She's hungry, but is afraid that if she goes off to feed, he'll show up, not see her, and leave. Contrary to what he told her, she's sure he'll show up. Mummy said he would. Mummy was never wrong about these things. Now if only Elektra could find a way to muffle the roars of the planes' engines as they took off and landed. Sensitive ears had costs as well as benefits.

Devlin sits in his car in the driveway. Was he going south to Mexicali as planned, or north to the airport and potential disaster? Even if he killed a Slayer, Elektra could still die, and that Slayer could kill him. Even if everything went perfectly, Debbie could find out. Another kill, no matter how prestigious, wasn't worth that. Yes, there was the obligation of family. He had a duty to protect his younger sister. But she knew how to survive. If he failed to join her, there was little chance she'd take on two Slayers at once. She was heedless, like her father. But unlike him, she knew when to run away.

"Wow! You're over forty," Harmony says to Paul.

"Forty two."

"And you're from Virginia?"

"Bluefield, West Virginia."

"Which is in the western part of Virginia."

"No. It's a whole other state."

"I'm not gonna fall for that."

"Fall for what?"

"You're little joke. I'm a lot less gullible than I look." Paul decides to drop it.

"I was working at Murray's Filling Station, when this Studebaker with two women comes off Route 52."

"Two women," Luiz comments, raising his eyebrows. "Nice."

"After I filled their tank, the driver asked for directions, and the other one went inside, killed my boss, and bit me from behind."

"I got it from behind, too," Harmony notes. "Except from a guy. I think it was a guy."

"It's strange that someone would take the time to sire you in the middle of this huge battle," Sidney points out to Harmony.

"I guess he knew she was special," Paul says, causing Harmony to beam.

The soldier leaves his pillbox on the beaches near Narbonne and points a pistol and a flashlight at whoever is approaching their position from behind. The allies had just landed at Normandy, and an American landing on the south coast was expected soon. Many feared that spies were already ashore, searching for weak points in their defenses. "Heinrich. It's me."

"Klaus! I thought she killed you?"

"I played dead. The stupid negarfrau bought it." Even demons were cast in racist terms. "I stole a car from a farmer and drove until it ran out of petrol."

"Why does a frog have petrol," Heinrich jokes. "We need it for our trucks." They both laugh, knowing how much they've already squeezed the local population.

"Did I miss anything?"

"The Yanks took Rome."

"They can have Italy. It didn't do us any good. But no landing at Marseilles?"

"Not yet. They may land here."

"Then we'd get to kill some," Klaus says with a wicked smile that should have tipped off his commanding officer off. "I want to kill."

"In good time." Heinrich leads Klaus back into the coastal fortifications. The men cheer to see their comrade once again. But their cheers turn to screams as he goes to work devouring them.

This was why the Germans stayed clear of Jeta, even when she was escorting two hundred Jews destined for the camps. The idea of a soldier turning on his men was far more terrifying than mere death at the hands of a monster. They had decided that contact with the "Negarfrau" led to bodily corruption. Jeta had detected their avoidance tactics a few months earlier, and decided to use them to her benefit. The refugees were divided into groups of ten she could easily lead over the mountainous border to safety in San Sebastian. But there was the tiny matter of compensation. Jeta referred to it as a "tax." The refugees quickly realized it would be a blood tax. Jeta made her way through the refugees and picked out the four prettiest young women, leading them by the hand away from their families. When a man protested, she reminded them that the German border guards she was shielding them from would not be so charitable. They relented, and the families bade tearful goodbyes to the women, whom Jeta stashed in a cave until she was done ferrying the people across. She could sense the war was ending. But before that happened, Jeta and her new minions would wreak bloody vengeance. Liberation could not bring her family back. Nothing could. Therefore, the vengeance could never end.

Gretchen stares out the window on the second floor of Buffy's training compound, just down the hall from the Slayers' dorms. "What's on your mind," Giles asks.

"What sort of protections does this building have?"

"Us. Buffy. And the twenty-odd Slayers living inside."

"But no concrete barriers to block a truck loaded with explosives?"

"This isn't a military barracks."

"To our enemies it is."

"Buffy's house in Sunnydale was far more vulnerable, and it was never attacked in that way. Compared to that house, this place is a fortress."

"Not compared to any of the embassies or consulates I worked in."

"You're worried about a suicide bombing," Giles asks politely but incredulously. "Seeing how no vampire believes in an afterlife - "

"The Ablanaxians."

"I see you've been reading my books," he notes with a smile. "But aside from the handful in that particular cult - "

"How about a chemical weapons attack?" Giles sighs.

"That seems rather sophisticated for demons. I thought you were part of the non-paranoid faction in the American foreign policy elite," he jokes.

"I was in the elite," she jokes back. "Gosh, I always saw myself as a lonely civil servant. I mean, lowly." Rupert smiles and takes her hand.

"Well, you're neither right now."

"Maybe we should send more Slayers to Cleveland."

"To handle fewer vampires?"

"I sense danger. You ever get that feeling that something bad's about to happen?"

"I used to. All the time."

"Used to what," Buffy asks as she walks out of the dorm. "Unless it's something boyfriendy/girlfriendy."

"Gretchen fears unconventional attack."

"You mean like that Sarin-in-the-ventilation thing you were talking about last week?" Buffy doesn't take Gretchen's warnings too seriously because they seem so alarmist and off-the-wall.

"If a rag-tag cult in Japan could get their hands on nerve agents, what's to stop of rag-tag band of extremely desperate vampires?" As a foreign policy realist, Gretchen fears that creating hundreds of Slayers disrupted the balance of power, creating new and unpredictable enemies, much like happened when the Cold War ended.

"Her current fear is for Rona and Vi."

"You think they're gonna use nerve gas on them? I supposed that's one way to fight the Scythe."

"No. But it's the Hellmouth. The demons aren't going to leave without a fight as they have in other cities. Where else has the other side used flame-throwers?"

"That was a bit wiggy," Buffy concedes. "But it's not like they can carry those around on the street."

"They can always use guns."

"Which would be just as effective against four Slayers as against two Slayers," Giles points out. "Increasing our strength does nothing to defend against the unconventional attacks you fear."

"I suppose you're right. As usual. Come on. Let's go home and do that boyfriendy-girlfriendy' stuff Buffy doesn't want to know about."

They're about to close the lower hatch and begin taxying. So Elektra, with her parasol in her right hand and her purse over her left shoulder, lowers her head and hurries towards the plane. "I'm glad to see you brought your umbrella." She turns and screams when she sees Devlin, and runs over to hug him. He looks very grim, and holds out his umbrella to keep her away. "Don't get so excited. You need to sleep. And no eating until after the Slayers are dead."

"What? Why?"

"You need to build up an appetite. Otherwise you'll back down and run away." She hugs her brother.

"I knew you'd come!"

"Then why were you walking away?"

"Shut up and get on the plane." She takes his hand and runs towards it.

Claire catches her breath and gropes Spike's body. "That was fucking amazing. You are fucking amazing."

"So that's why you date me? If you can call this dating."

"Come on. You know I like you for so many other reasons."

"Like what?"

"You're hot. And brave. And, and, and you're life has purpose."

"It does?"

"Yeah! You help people. You save lives. Your life matters," she explains as she kisses his neck. "How many people can say that?"

"You can."

"Bullshit."

"You matter to me."

"Thanks, but, in the big scheme of things, I'm nothing. I don't matter to the world. I hope, one day, my art might matter. But right now, I just suck up resources and don't give anything back. I'm the real vampire," she adds with a laugh.

"You're a kid."

"That's what you think of me?"

"You're twenty years old."

"And you're a hundred and twenty. Maybe I should go. If I can find my clothes."

"I think you're shirt's behind you." Claire turns around and finds it. "And don't go. Not without me."

"Why? You're right. We have nothing in common. Except sex. You've said it yourself: all we do is fuck."

"It doesn't have to be all we do."

"So you don't wanna fuck me anymore?"

He sighs. "Bloody hell. Enough with the mood swings. Wut I meant wus, we could try going on a real date."

"It's a little late for that."

"Tomorrow night. We'll go out, have dinner and, whatever else people do on those things. It's been a long time since I dated."

"Wake up," Elektra says to Spike and Drusilla. "The sun's down."

"The rooster does not cluck when you pull out its feathers," a bleary-eyed Dru responds.

"You've been in bed all day," Devlin points out.

"We're bloody nocturnal," Spike snarls.

"Then get up," Elektra pleads.

"Maybe tomorrow," Dru offers.

"We're healing," Spike explains. "Pass me some of that medicine, would you son?" Devlin pours him a glass of blood and gin. "Maybe you could bring me back something live?"

"Of course," Devlin eagerly responds. "You won't be disappointed."

"I'm never disappointed in you son," Spike states as he downs his drink. "Except when I'm not proud of you."

"I'll get you a nice snack, mummy."

"You do that, deary. Now blow out the candle." As Dru pretends to do that, Leks turns off the lights. Spike and Dru start to cuddle and laugh.

"The noise is killing me," Elektra screams as she rides with Devlin in the belly of a plane along with the luggage.

"You didn't bring earplugs?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not a frequent flyer like you, bro," she responds sarcastically. "Damn, it's freezing," she adds while shivering.

"Usually I sleep through it. Usually, someone isn't yelling in my ear."

"How can I sleep with this noise?" She wraps her jacket around her ears and buries her head in Devlin's chest, putting her arms around his body as if he's a big teddy bear.

"What are you doing?"

"You make me feel safe."

"Stop saying that."

"It's true."

"Debbie says that."

"Yuck. Now you're making me feel gross."

"Nothing gross about a vampire loving a super human person."

"It is if she's a Slayer."

"What about your Boy Slayer fantasy?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"It just is." Elektra grins and closes her eyes.

Devlin flicks Spike's left ear. He wakes up, angry. "Do you know how hard it is to drag a girl three miles through this city without arousing suspicion?"

"You try throwing her in the trunk?"

"I took the subway."

"Risky. That's not like you Dev."

"Come on, mummy. He's all wrapped and ready," Elektra says to Dru.

"Miss Edith wants her tea."

"She can have it with a new friend."

"Who?"

"Come see."

"Oi loike surprises." Leks takes her hand.

"Close your eyes." She leads her to a blond six year-old boy who's mouth is taped shut and whose eyes are covered.

"He's beautiful! And he's been sobbing." She removes the blindfold and the tape. Elektra loves watching her mum get off on some soon-to-be-dead innocent child's fear. Especially when she'll get kudos for it afterwards.

"It was a new challenge," Dev says to Spike as he stands up. "I held her hand the whole way and said I'd crush it if she tried anything. Before we went down, I showed her my face, so she knew not to fight."

"You're learning something new every day, son." Spike walks into the dungeon and sees a pale girl in her late teens with long black hair. "Is she a virgin?"

"She was when I met her." They both laugh. Spike pats Dev on the back. He sees a trickle of blood rolling down her left leg. "Normally, I'd punish a vampire for sampling my treat. But you're my flesh and blood. Also, I luv that you're finally embracing your impulsive side. Giving in to your urges."

"You look incredible," Paul says to Harmony as they sip their drinks at the club. "Have I told you that."

"Only like three or four times." They both laugh. Harmony falls into his arms. "Why do I feel like touching you?"

"I've got a few theories."

"Let's dance." The two of them join Sid and Luiz. Sidney splits off from her date and cozies up to Harmony, who either doesn't notice or doesn't mind. She feels unusually light-headed and happy, but assumes it's just the booze and the fact that she's met a guy who's really into her.

"Look at them," Sidney whispers to Harmony from behind, putting her right hand on Harm's stomach and her left hand on her face to tilt her head in the right direction. Harmony's a lot less freaked out by this inappropriate touching than she was a few hours ago. "Those boys are checking us out."

"Don't they know we're taken?"

"I'm not sure what they think. What would you think right now?" Harmony moves away and turns around.

"Omigod. They think we're - "

"Don't all men? I say we humor them. Or, torture them. Whichever." She quickly gets behind Harmony again. "It's nice to be ogled by men who think you're unattainable."

"Oh." Harmony smiles and decides to play along with the game, not noticing that Luiz and Paul are also ogling them. Of course, Sidney isn't doing this for their benefit either.

The plane lands in Cleveland at 6:30 on Saturday morning. "Oh, thank you," Leks exults when the engines are turned off. "I'm never flying coach again," the spoiled princess jokes.

"Technically, we're steerage. You slept well, eventually."

"I had a great dream."

"About your dream boy?"

"This was the one where I beat him up and take him home to meet dad. Old, cool, sexy dad. He doesn't like the boy, and tells me to tie him up, which of course I was gonna do anyway." She giggles. "But daddy starts torturing him. Spike burns my Boy Slayer, and flays him, breaks his fingers, everything he can think of to get the boy to promise to stay away from his daughter. But my boy refuses."

"Does he have a name?"

"No. Just Boy."

"What does he look like? This time?"

"He's my age. A little taller. Skinny. Tight body. And a pretty, delicate face that I could stare at for weeks. Anyway, daddy does everything he can. And remember, my boy's super powered, so he can take a lot of torture. Finally, daddy gives up, and decides that any boy who's will to go through all that for me is good enough for his daughter. So I untie him, and lick his wounds, and care for him until he's better. And then just before the part where he tells me he wants me to turn him into a vampire so we can be together forever, the plane starts to land and my ears pop and I wake up." She looks at a small dog in its cage and licks her lips.

"No Leks. You have to fast. When that Slayer tries to kill you, you wanna be ready to bite off her fingers and gnaw on her shoulders."

"Is that what you did to Hilda?"

"No."

"Lightweight." They hear the hatch start to open and unfurl their umbrellas which they hold in front like shields. The two of them stroll onto the tarmac. Devlin puts away his umbrella.

"It's cloudy." Leks does likewise. "That's a good omen." They scurry towards the nearest terminal.

Harmony, Paul, Sidney and Luiz stagger out of the club, the two couples arm-in-arm and laughing. "You guys are the best friends I've had as a vampire. I mean that," Harmony slurs.

"Just friends," Paul asks, kissing her.

"Well, some more friendly than others." Harmony reaches her key to the door but stumbles. Paul holds her up. "Any of us not wasted?"

"Whoever isn't has some explaining to do," Sid jokes.

"I know what we need," Luiz announces, going bumpy. Sidney and Paul do so as well.

"Be right back," Paul tells Harmony, putting his left arm around her waist, leaning her back against the door and kissing her. She puts her arms around him and kisses back. Sid finally grabs Paul's right hand and yanks him away. Harmony looks up at the stars and smiles.

The three vampires find a sober looking fellow and surround him. He's aghast at the monsters before him. "Hey man," Luiz begins. "You're our designated driver."

"W-what?"

"Come along and we won't kill you," Paul adds. The man tries to find a rational explanation.

"This is some sort of joke, right?" He puts his left hand to Sidney's bumps, but notices they don't come off. She twists his right arm to the breaking point.

"I know it's a cliche, but there really are two ways to do this." The three vampires growl.

Pretty soon, they return. "Got your keys," Paul asks Harmony. He gently takes them out of her right hand and gives them to the hapless gentleman they've pressed into service.

"You know where Laguna Hills is," Luiz asks. The guy nods sheepishly.

"Why are you all fangy," Harmony asks, fearful they're going on a killing spree.

"To impress the locals," Paul answers. Harmony goes bumpy once she realizes it'll scare the human and make her feel powerful.

"If you get one scratch on my car, I will so kill you," she threatens, laughing afterword. "Wow, they felt good," she whispers to Paul.

Once inside the airport, Devlin ordered up a limo with darkly tinted windows. The driver was unsure why his passengers wanted to go to a deserted part of town, but a $500 tip took care of questions. Elektra noticed the vampires had fled their cave, but found them at a nearby factory. When they heard footsteps, they thought it was the Slayers coming for an early morning kill. "Relax, it's me," Leks shouts. They put down their weapons when they see her and another vampire. Devlin hates having to show his fangs like this in order to maintain a shred of credibility.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Getting help. This here's my brother Devlin. He's killed a Slayer."

"Bullshit," one woman says. There are four men and two women, two of the vampires having been killed while Elektra was gone.

"That's the problem," Devlin muses. "How do you prove you've killed a Slayer?"

"For starters, you don't try to be Keanu Reeves in your black trenchcoat. Is that supposed to impress us," the other woman asks. Dev senses a credibility gap.

"No," Devlin calmy responds, pointing his umbrella at her. He cocks the gun with his right thumb and presses the trigger with his index finger. The bullet enters her neck and goes through her spine, causing her to disintegrate. The vampires gasp. They've never seen anyone kill a vampire with a bullet before, so it seems almost like a magic trick. "I'm not here to impress," he pledges facetiously while handing the smoking umbrella to his sister. "I'm here to get things done." He reaches into his pockets and pulls out wads of cash, which he counts out. "Here are five hundred dollars," he says to each person as he hands them money. "There's two thousand more for whoever brings me two digital video cameras. I know it's daytime, and venturing outside could kill you. But monetary incentives have a way of causing people to surmount such obstacles. We'll be staying at the Hilton. One room is ours. The adjacent room is yours, reserved under the name Cavanaugh. It's yours once I get the cameras." He looks at his watch. "Right now, it is 8:30. In a little over twelve hours, you'll see what a dead Slayer looks like. Or a dead me," he adds with a chuckle. "But I didn't come here to lose." Dev holds out his left arm, and Elektra tosses him his umbrella. They leave the factory, climb in the limo and are off.

"Pretty sorry lot, aren't they," she asks.

"It's a pity I can't save a better class of vampire. Then again, we don't need them as fighters. Or followers. Only witnesses."


	56. Let's Get It On

Devlin describes the time he fought Faith. Harmony's new friends want her to enjoy some new, and scary, experiences. Spike finds himself enjoying normalcy. And Dev and Leks take on Rona and Vi.

"I thought you were gonna sleep clear through the Slayer killing," Elektra jokes to Devlin when he wakes up after six in the evening.

"You waiting for me to wake up. That's a change."

"Well, I'm worked up about tonight. And . . . nervous."

"You? You've never been nervous about anything. Even when you should have been."

"I know. But, this is different. I've run away from every Slayer I've faced. Sometimes after dispensing some wicked pain. But there was always an out. Tonight I gotta fight to the death. Hers, or mine."

"Not gonna happen. You're a natural."

"A natural born sexy, badass, kickass riot-grrrl. But Slayer killing? I dunno if I have it in me."

"Leks, It's in your blood."

"Then why haven't I done it yet? You bagged one on your first try."

"No I didn't."

"What?"

"It was way back. Back during the summer when mom and dad split. Except we didn't know about that yet. I was in the Hamptons, stealing from the greedy and battling their mercenary demon fighters."

"Is that when you almost killed Puffy?"

"Yes, until I realized it could be mistakenly blamed on that whole East Coast-West Coast feud, and next thing you know Dre gets shot in retaliation, which would be wrong."

"I met a couple vampires who used to work for Suge Knight. Since when did you care about hip hop? I'm the one who's always been down."

"Anyway, while I was in Easthampton, I began hearing about a Slayer causing all sorts of trouble up in Boston. I was twenty, so I figured it was my time. What better way to impress dad than following in his footsteps?"

Wearing the black pants, black tank top and black trench coat he still prefers today, Devlin stalks the dance floor at Avalon, watching Faith grind and writhe with a tall vampire who has moussed, eighties hair. She puts her arms around him and leads him outside. Devlin lights up a cigarette. "She worked a lot like you," Dev informs his sister. "Seduce, lure them out, then kill."

"Except I have better artistry. I must," Leks snobbishly maintains.

Faith soon returns, stands by the bar and sips a rum and coke out of a straw. She has her back to the bar and scans the semi-circular dance floor directly in front of her and the yellow booths to her left. Dev stands to her left and orders a beer. He takes a few swigs before looking her over. She's wearing black leather pants and a white tank top. Faith glances up at the man about to hit on her and is decidedly unimpressed.

"You look a little young to be in here."

"You too," she replies after another quick glance.

"I'm much older than I look."

"Good for you."

"I'd like to know if you're as fun as you look," he clumsily offers.

"No," Leks screams. "You actually said that," she adds with a laugh.

"The Slayer looked fun. Not like dour Buffy or stuck-up Hilda. And the vampire I saw her with wasn't that good-looking. So I figured I had a shot at the royal treatment.

"You would," Faith replies icily, still looking out at the dance floor. Devlin steps in front of her. "Outta my way, loser," she says, pushing him aside. Dev is livid at the brush-off. Not only is she uninterested in flirting with him. She seems to hardly think he's worth the trouble of slaying.

"Fine. We'll do it my way." He finishes his beer and walks to his left, picking up an ashtray off a table and stuffing it in his left coat pocket. Dev goes up to a booth, grabs a guy, punches him out and bites his girlfriend. Faith runs over, stake in hand. Dev lets go of the girl and spins around, hitting Faith with the back of his left hand before racing to the exit. Faith pursues him onto Landsdowne Street, next to Fenway Park. The Green Monster rises on the other side of the street. Drunks and their friends mill about outside the bars and clubs.

"Can't take a hint," Faith asks as Dev backs up.

"Call me old-fashioned, but I like to show a Slayer a good time before I kill her." Faith laughs.

"If you're a Slayer Killer, then I'm Miss America." She lands a right hook and blocks Dev's right hook, not noticing his left hand in his pocket. Dev ducks her right cross and smashes the glass ashtray into the right side of her head, opening up a cut above her ear.

"You dick!"

"Sorry. I was speaking in the subjunctive tense," he adds geekily while landing right and left hooks to her face, then a right knee to her chin. The astray blow still smarts. Meanwhile, the drunks cheer on the fight, oblivious to the stakes. Faith lands a left jab, but Dev responds with right jab, right hook, left cross, right kick to the stomach, followed by left hook and right cross to her face. Dev grabs her hair, spins Faith around and throws her into the wall. The guys whistle at the hair-pulling, which seems beyond the pale. Two men try to stick up for the girl getting battered, not noticing Dev's monstrous face, or the fact that he licking Faith's blood off his left palm. He takes down one with a left hook kick and another with a head butt. Faith gets up and lands a right hook. "Since when did a Slayer need a mob to protect her," Dev taunts while landing a right hook of his own.

"Get out," Faith yells, looking at the men and fearing for their safety. They see the determination on the girl's bloody face and decide this is way outside their league.

"I've tasted you. Now, it's only a matter of time."

"You're right." Faith lands a leaping right roundhouse kick that sends Dev into the wall. She follows this up with two punches to his stomach and four to his face before grabbing Dev's jacket and throwing him over her shoulder. He sails twenty feet before rolling on the ground to the edge of the Green Monster. When he tries to get up, Faith lands a right hook kick. She then leans down to stake the prostrate vampire, but Dev sweeps her legs, gets up and sprints west, taking a quick left to head south towards the swamps. Faith stands up, stashes away her stake and puts her left hand to her head. Only then does she realize how bad she is bleeding from the ashtray blow. Faith races east and north towards her Watcher's town house in Back Bay for some first aide.

"So you hurt her," Leks says to Dev.

"But she almost killed me. It was humiliating. I spend the night walking around the park and crying. I felt like a failure."

"You cry about a lot of things," she jokes. "Besides, you've done it."

"By killing her Watcher. That's what demoralized Hilda."

"Maybe you can do that again."

"If these girls are as good as you say, they don't need to patrol with a Watcher."

"Great, now you're nervous. Just bloody perfect," Elektra states worrisomely.

Harmony's going at it with Paul on the coach. She's on her back, and has already ripped off his shirt. "Wait," she says, confusing Paul.

"You don't do it on the first date?"

"No. I mean, yes. Wait. I mean, shouldn't we be doing this in your room? I'd hate for Sidney or Lou to come out and catch us."

"Yeah. That would be awkward," he replies with a smirk. Harmony laughs as Paul picks her up and carries her into his room. But when the door opens, she sees Sid and Luiz on the bed.

"I thought you said this was your room?"

"It is," Sidney says, tossing Paul off her and off the bed. Harmony averts her eyes since Sid is topless. "Shy. That's cute."

"It's also the only room with a Queen-size bed," Luiz explains, leaping back on the bed only to be playfully tossed off the other side by Sidney.

"So? We're using it."

"She doesn't know," Luiz whispers to Sid.

"Doesn't know what?" Luiz walks over to Harmony, completely naked. "Is . . . is this an orgy?" The three vampires laugh.

"No," Sidney insists. "We're just being . . . convenient."

"I like you," Luiz confesses to Harmony. "I think you're a fox. But so does Paul. And, I know you like him better, which is fine, since Sid likes me better, but - "

"Omigod. This IS an orgy!" Harmony leaves the room and races for the front door. Paul catches her.

"What's the problem?"

"I'm not into this weird stuff."

"What weird stuff'? The only problem is more than one guy in this apartment likes you. Which isn't a problem. It's a blessing. An honor, even."

"An honor?"

"Yeah." Paul's always been a good bullshitter. "I think you're amazing. Luiz thinks you're amazing. We want to honor you and make you happy."

"At the same time," Harmony asks, cringing, but also a little curious.

"No," he replies with a laugh. "I just think that, if I can't completely satisfy you, then Luiz should get an opportunity. Because what I care about most is making you the happy. Tonight, I want you to make you the happiest vampire in Southern California."

"Really? That is SO sweet!" She kisses him.

"So . . . you ready?" Harmony thinks. Boy-girl-boy was okay. What about boy-girl-boy-girl?

"Is Sidney expecting anything?"

"From you? No. She's knows you're not - "

"It's not like I'm turning her down."

"She knows."

"It's just not my thing."

"She completely understands."

"Okay. Not that we have the ground rules set."

"I've been dreaming about you since the night we met." Harmony's heart melts. How could she resist such entreaties?

"Tonight's been really fun, Paul," she replies, putting her hands on his chest and staring up into his eyes.

"You thirsty?

"Paul! That's a little forward."

"Oh God! You thought I meant?" He chuckles. "No. No! I meant blood. To keep our strength up."

"So how do we flush them out," Elektra asks her brother. "Burn their house down?"

"No. That would attract too much attention. We stalk. And wait."

"Wait?"

"Yes. Wait for the right moment."

"I don't believe it. You can make even Slayer-killing sound boring."

"Well, we could do a rash attack, like you did in the past, and have to deal with that Magic Ax you're afraid of."

"It's not magic. And I'm not afraid of it. I'd just like to fight Rona when she's not holding it."

"And the only way to ensure that happens is to wait." Devlin knocks on a door. One of the vampires opens.

"Good. You're bathed," Elektra says. Dev and Leks enter.

"Is it time," a male vampire asks. The sun's down."

"Patience," Elektra counsels. "Enjoy your Spectravision. Order room service."

"Can we kill?"

"It's a hotel. We got an open invitation."

"No killing," Devlin orders. "No killing until the Slayers are dead."

"But if you're fighting them, they can't stop us."

"We'll fight them when I want to fight them. And when we fight, you'll be with me. Until then, if you do anything, their Watcher will find out and send his Slayers here to kill you. And I won't bother to get in their way."

"You're brother's a major buzzkill," the female vampire says to Leks.

"I don't live here. I don't particularly care about this place. These Slayers are no threat to me. I'm doing this for you. And when they are dead, and I am gone, you will reap the glory. You are the ones who stayed. Who fought. Who didn't run. And the vampires will remember that when they return here. And they will honor you. This is a small price to pay for becoming a legend. And the price just got smaller. The limo's yours for the night. I'll call you on its phone. Have fun."

Leks and Dev watch the limo speed off as one of the male vamps sticks his head out the sun roof. "Vampires are so easy to please."

"Like humans. They just want you to make them feel special."

Harmony lies on the bed to Sidney's left. To Sid's right, Luiz sleeps on the floor, smiling. She reaches across Harmony's body and pushes Paul to the floor. "What'd you do that for," Harmony asks.

"To give you more room." Harmony puts her head on the pillow, pulls up the sheets and closes her eyes, only to open them a few seconds later.

"Actually, I can't get to sleep."

"Me neither." Sid slides her right hand under the covers and touches Harmony's right thigh, freaking Harm out.

"What are you doing?"

"Boys tend to tap out sooner than girls." It takes Harmony a moment to get the analogy, which she finds rather disgusting.

"Actually, Sidney, I'm pretty tapped out."

"Oh really?" Sid moves her hand higher. Harmony grabs Sid's arm.

"Stop!"

"Relax." She kisses Harmony's neck and snuggles up to her. "Doesn't this feel good?"

"Ughh, ummm, wellll - "

"You look great. You smell great. You should feel great." Sidney gets on top, takes Harmony's hands in hers, pinning them down, then slides lower, kissing Harmony's chest.

"I-I-I do. Paul made me feel great. And Luiz. This just makes me feel - "

"Scared," Sidney asks as she pops up and rubs noses. "There's nothing to be scared of. You don't have to do anything." Sidney slides back down, kissing Harmony's stomach and belly button. Harmony laughs.

"That tickles." Sid slides back up.

"I'm just getting started." She kisses Harm softly on the lips and runs her left hand through her hair. "You have beautiful hair."

"Um, thanks. But I'm really not . . . what are you doing with your feet?"

"Rubbing your legs. Making a spark. Like insects do." Sid's too excited to realize she's mangling her cricket metaphor, and Harmony's not one who'd notice the mistake, anyway. Especially at a surreal moment like this. "You like?"

"It's, it's, it's . . . nice."

"You're trembling. But not in a good way."

"I've had a really good time, and I like you as a friend, and I, uh, I think you're attractive. But I'm not - "

"It doesn't count if you don't do anything."

"This isn't anything. It's, it's definitely something," Harmony stammers as Sidney nibbles on her right earlobe and gropes her chest with her hands.

"If I do everything, and you do nothing, it doesn't count for you. It only counts for me."

"Oh. Okay." The alcohol seems to have lowered her inhibitions. But she hasn't had a cocktail in hours. "Is it okay if I close my eyes?"

"Sure. Don't look. Just feel."

"You know this town, right," Leks asks Dev.

"Used to come here all the time as a kid. It's only thirty miles from Fairlawn. Back then the plants were still open. I wonder where the demons lived then? De-industrialization has been very good for the non-human population."

"Quit with the geek talk." Elektra raises her right foot to kick through a window so they can get into the high school.

"Don't. They're not here."

"How do you know?"

"There'd be a car in the parking lot. The principal has a car?"

"Yeah. I did some damage to his wheels. The guy's name is Robin Wood. And he's black. You think there's any connection," she asks as they walk away.

"To who?"

"To the Slayer daddy killed, dummy."

"So first I'm a geek, but now I'm a dummy? Make up your mind."

"Her name was Nikki Wood."

"It's a common last name." Dev laughs. "You think it's her brother?"

"Too young. Maybe a nephew. Or a cousin. It just seems too strange to be a coincidence."

"Slayers don't have a lot of family involvement in their work. How's a nephew or a cousin gonna even know about it? They keep this stuff secret. At least they used to."

"He's not a bad fighter. But we can take him out after getting the girls."

"You can. I'll be gone."

"Back to suburbia. And your girlfriend," she sneers.

"I don't criticize your lifestyle choices. Don't criticize mine."

"What lifestyle choice? You got a problem with me killing people?"

"No. With how you kill them. The priapic bit is beneath your talents."

"It's not a bit. And it's fun. Better than just grabbing a guy off the street and biting him."

"Maybe it's a double standard, but female vampires who seduce and fluff don't get a lot of respect."

"Because that's all they do. I'm also a fighter. And what I do with the rest of my time in nobody's business."

"Doesn't it get old after the ten-thousandth time?"

"No. Every kill is different. And there's that awesome moment between when you bite him and when he realizes he's going to die. You're happy. He's still happy. I love when they don't know yet they're getting killed. Plus, it's their own damn fault they die. It's not like I force myself on these guys."

"It does have that charming aspect."

"Be back by ten," Wood tells the girls.

"It's Saturday," Rona complains. "How bout eleven?"

"No. Twelve," Vi adds. "It's only eight-thirty."

"That's too late. You need to patrol."

"Fine. Eleven." Wood thinks about this.

"Come on," Rona pleads. "There's hardly any demons left."

"Fine." The girls smile and leave. Leks and Dev have been pacing the street for forty minutes, waiting for someone to come out of that house. It wasn't hard for Dev, because he's extremely patient. But Leks was ready to explode.

"What do they need? A written invitation?"

"That would be nice," Dev responds. "Like dueling. With rules and honor. Vampires and Slayers meeting one another as equals." Devlin sees Slayers and powerful vampires as a sort of New Knighthood. Unfortunately, Slayers failed to give vampires the same level of respect. Just then, he sees two young women exit the house.

"There they are. Let's get 'em," Elektra exults. Dev grabs her arm and pulls her against the front wall of a grocery.

"Patience."

"I've been patient," she pouts.

"Slayers aren't nocturnal," he whispers.

"How do you know? These girls don't go to school."

"Whatever time they got up, they'll be more tired three hours from now."

"Three hours?"

"Or two hours. Or one hour. Besides, I have to familiarize myself with the prey."

"You get the white one."

"I like her. Shock of bright red hair. Long legs. Probably has a powerful kick. Definite independent spirit. It will be an honor to face her."

"Enough with this honor bullshit."

"Killing a Slayer is a sacramental act. It is the only noble thing a vampire can do. It's what defines our family. Our heritage. Our future."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm hungry. She's got blood. And I wanna show her what I can do one-on-one."

"Is there any reason you want to kill the black girl?"

"What are you implying?"

"I'm not implying anything. I just find it interesting. Given our parents, and the Slayers they killed."

"She's fun to fight. I had a good time with her. It's got nothing to do with race. To be honest, I like her more than the pale one." They follow the Slayers from a discreet distance as they quietly talk.

"She is very pale. Vampire pale. Did you know that in Serbia red hair is seen as a sign of vampirism?"

"You got that from The X-Files,' didn't you?"

"It was a funny episode. Vampires without fangs."

"It defamed us. They should've had a hot teenage vampire who wanted to sire Mulder."

"And another hot teenage lady vampire who wanted to sire Scully. Perhaps with dark brown skin, an exotic accent and magical powers."

"You're still caught up on that Gypsy! I thought you were in love?"

"I am. That doesn't mean I don't recognize Yetta's enduring sex appeal."

"Apparently mummy and me are the only ones who don't." They both laugh.

"Admit it: it's a badge of honor she came onto you."

"I was flattered. But enough of honor. We're vampires!"

"Vampires stalking Slayers."

"Excited?"

"Getting phantom heart beats."

"Why don't you accept we're superior and stop wishing you were human?"

"I don't wish I was human. I just miss certain human sensations sometimes."

"We enjoy other sensations the breathers lack. Like the taste of fresh human blood from a live victim. You've probably forgotten."

"I don't miss it."

"Then why are you here?"

"To change the world. For the better." They both chuckle. "I'm serious. Balance must be restored. Or things will get ugly for everybody."

"Stop it, Yoda. I know how much you love your Lucas."

"Only the first two. And that scene with Carrie Fisher in a metal bikini."

"What about Natalie Portman?"

"In a metal bikini? I wouldn't mind seeing that."

"You can't hate the prequels if she's in them, cause you like her."

"Cause she's smart. I liked the girl, not her work. She's learning Arabic. Like I did. Except, probably for vastly different reasons. I liked her for her brain."

"Liked?"

"Next to Slayers, movie stars and rock stars seem so inconsequential."

"Does that mean you've given up your crush on Liz Phair?"

"Have you?" Elektra laughs. Dev puts his right arm around her shoulder and savors the sibling bonding, especially since this reunion is about to end, and tomorrow he goes back to being the traitorous enemy.

"Oh no they're not," Leks says after her jaw drops.

"Slayers can party. If every night could be your last - "

"They stole my men!"

"Come again, sis?" The two tall, handsome boys greeting the girls are Trent and Rondell.

"I bit them. They're the basketball players I bit."

"Did the Slayers happen to save them?"

"I let 'em go," Leks says defensively. "They didn't stop me."

"Classic damsel behavior. Boys are so predictable. They'll throw themselves at the first super-powered woman who saves their life. It's demeaning to our entire gender."

"How you doing," Rona asks Rondell, who's wearing a black turtleneck.

"Pretty good."

"Is it scaring," she asks, reaching for his neck.

"It just hasn't gone away. Doctor says it will in a week a so."

"Get any funny looks at school," Vi asks Trent, who's not concealing the bite mark.

"I caught a few. But it's not all bad. Chicks dig gory wounds." Vi smiles and reaches her hand up to touch his neck.

"I don't believe it. They're getting off on the work I did."

"It's the least you could do, what with getting them killed and all." The couples enter the building.

"Should we follow?"

"No. They know you. It could tip them off."

"Those boys are cute. They can do better."

"I find the Slayers quite attractive."

"You find all Slayers attractive. It's genetic."

"They all have a glow. Except for Deb. She's a supernova."

"Maybe you and dad can sit around and debate who's more goddess-like: Buffy or Debbie."

"He's got better things to do with his time. I hope."

Spike and Claire emerge arm-in-arm from a Vietnamese restaurant. "I had no idea you ate food."

"I like the taste. I fancy the taste of a lot of things." He kisses her neck. She giggles and sighs happily.

"Where to now?"

"How bout that experimental play you mentioned?"

"I thought you didn't like that sorta thing."

"I can heckle at the actors if I get bored." She smiles. They get on a motorcycle and zoom off. Claire rests her head on Spike's right shoulder and holds him tight. It's great to have such a cool boyfriend.

"I'm really glad you gave this dating thing a chance."

"Me too. Sometimes it's fun to be normal." He pauses as they sit at a light. "Did I just say that?"

Leks and Dev waited outside for ninety minutes, passing the time by playing an old game. Dev tried to guess which men passing by his sister would like to bite, and she guessed which women her brother would want to bite. Usually, if one sibling made the right choice, the other one would happily kill the person. Leks found that version of the game much more fun. Self-restraint did not agree with her. Finally, their targets emerged and went for coffee, after which they split up. Dev followed Vi, and Leks Rona, as the Slayers took their dates home.

"I had a really good time tonight," Trent tells Vi.

"Me too. I'd like to do it again."

"Me too." Dev mimics the inane chatter and rolls his eyes. Did he and Deb sound this brain-dead?

"How bout next Friday, after your game?"

"I'd like to see you sooner." This makes Vi very happy.

"I could swing by school on Monday. We can have lunch, or something."

"Sure. Great. See ya then." He leans in cautiously to kiss her. She kisses him back. They kiss again. Then she puts her arms around him and he pulls her close. Dev glances at his watch.

"Twenty eight seconds. Not bad for a last kiss." He follows Vi from three blocks back, following her scent when he can't see her. Along the way, he whistles the melody from "Last Kiss," then starts singing:

"Oh where, oh where can my Slayer be?

Devlin took her away from me.

She's gone to Heaven so I got to be good,

so I can see my Slayer when I leave this world."

"We could go out for a bite after the game Tuesday night," Rondell suggests to Rona.

"Or we could hang out tomorrow."

"I got homework. My mom's really strict about - "

"I could help you. Or, pretend to help you."

"Girl moves fast. I respect that," Elektra comments.

"Maybe you could come by at eleven when my mom's at church."

"It's a date." She gives him a quick kiss on the lips and turns around.

"You saved his life! Slip him the tongue," Elektra urges. Sure enough, Rona turns around. "Alright. Action!" She observes the couple for twenty seconds. "Okay, you can stop now. You're making me jealous."

After a few blocks, Rona senses someone is following her. Leks is not as discrete as Dev, but she's a lot quicker, and every time Rona turns her head Elektra sprints around the corner. Vi meets up with her half a mile from home. They laugh and talk about their good-night kisses, how much these guys like them, and how great their respective guy is. "The thing is, back at my old high school, I wouldn't stand a chance with a stud like Trent," Vi confesses. "That's one of the great things about being a Slayer. It turns you into a whole new woman."

"I think we're being followed."

"Okay, that's one of the not-so-great things about being a Slayer." Vi looks around. "How many?"

"One. I think."

"No problem. Good thing we brought our purses." They each take out stakes.

"Should we call Robin?"

"Why bother, if it's one. Hell, why bother if it's four?"

"You're right. It could be a trap. Lure our Watcher out, get him before he gets to us," Rona surmises.

"Jeez. I thought I was the nervous worrying one."

"I don't like being stalked. It reminds me of the Bringers."

"Bring 'em on," Vi puns. "I think we could handle those guys now."

Dev grabs Elektra. "What are you doing so close to her?"

"Sorry. I'm not used to tracking," she sarcastically replies. "I usually kill my prey right away."

"Our witnesses should be here any minute. Until then, stay out of range."

A limo passes in front of the Slayers as they wait to cross a street. "How many of those you see around here," Rona asks.

"Maybe someone's having an early prom," Vi quips. The limo turns right at the next block, heads south and is soon intercepted by Leks, who jumps on the hood.

"Hello Cleveland! Are you ready to rock?"

"Showtime," a much more subdued Devlin says to the vampires as they exit the limo. He hands his coat and umbrella to a male vamp. Leks hands her purse to the female vamp. Two male vamps hold the cameras. "Try to keep a respectful distance. I don't want the Slayers to know they have company."

"Also, it gives us a chance to run away if you lose," the vampire holding nothing comments. Devlin had problems with this guy's attitude earlier in the day.

"Quite true," Dev concedes with a smile.

"Not gonna happen," Leks interjects. "By the way, anyone who leaves is disinvited to the party afterwards. And I hear Slayer blood is a powerful afrodisiac." The men smile. Much of Elektra's authority over them derives from their hopes of getting some.

"Hurry up," Dev orders as he marches north. "We can't let them get within range of the base."

"He means the house," Leks whispers. A couple vampires snicker. "By the way, they still haven't fixed the windows I broke upstairs," she notes proudly.

"May I have a word, sister?" She rushes forward to join him. "Game face."

"I'm game."

"You have to take this seriously."

"Dude, it's not like I wanna get killed."

"This is what mom and dad dreamed of: their children working together to kill Slayers. It's the fulfillment of our life's work."

"I know. Mummy's gonna go bonkers. She'll flip."

"Let them get tired. Play defense. Wait for your time. There's always a moment when the Slayer loses her armor and becomes just another girl. Seize that moment, and you can kill her. Try to force a decision too soon, and you got trouble."

"Don't worry. I wanna go with this Rona for a good five minutes. She seems fun. They're close. I'm so excited!"

"I don't fuck much with the past, but I fuck plenty with the future," Dev says, quoting a Patty Smith song.

"Spare the child and spoil the rod, I have not sold myself to God," they say in unison before high-fiveing.

Rona stops. "You hear that?"

"Sounds like kids."

"Maybe we should get home. Find some more weapons." Rona fears vamps with swords, axes, and maybe even guns.

"No. I want a good fight. It's been a while."

Elektra grabs the vampire holding nothing and kisses him. He smiles. "Guess what? At the circus, you get to ride me first." She takes his right arm and leads him forward. They're sixty yards from the Slayers. "With privilege comes responsibility." Dev takes his left arm, making the vampire nervous. He tries to stop, but they drag him forward.

"It's real simple," Dev explains. "You distract one of the Slayers while I come from behind and bite her. Then Leks and I double up on the other one."

"And you get to fuck me." The vampire is torn between his lack of trust and his surplus of desire. But his will doesn't really since they hurl him in the Slayers' direction. He flies through the air and lands nearby. The Slayers are confused. Dev and Lex hide behind a parked car. For reasons Leks can't understand, Dev takes off his shirt.

"You missed the dismount," Vi jokes. The vampire stands up and runs away. Vi runs after him and takes him down with a leaping right kick to the back. She picks him up, holds him arms back, and lets Rona stake him.

"Liars," he screams before disintegrating.

"And action," Devlin announces, playing director and star. The cameramen look in their view-finders and put the Slayers in focus. They realize there are others and start to look around. Dev sneaks up along the sidewalk, crouching low. There are no parked cars on the block where Vi and Rona stand, so he hides behind a mailbox. Meanwhile, Leks shows herself.

"Evening girls," she says as she walks forward. "Are you having fun tonight?"

"Yeah," Rona replies.

"And it looks like we're about to have more," Vi adds.

"Wrong," Leks responds before doing several flips towards the Slayers while Dev sneaks up behind them. She pulls up six feet in front of Vi. Right then, Dev blindsides Rona with a right cross, knocking her down. Vi turns and takes a swing, but Dev maneuvers behind her, pulls her right arm back and puts his left arm across her throat, just like Spike did when Buffy was training them as Potentials.

"You're dead," he says, echoing Spike. But things are different now, and Vi throws Devlin in front of her before he can bite. Rona tries to kick Dev while he's down, but Leks nails her in the chest with a leaping right kick while letting out a loud "high-ya!" Dev stands up and backs away from Vi.

"You hurt my arm," she deadpans.

"Sorry. Just meant to kill ya," he jokes back.


	57. Glorious death, not so glorious victory

"Kill me. With what? Those teeny-tiny fangs," Vi taunts before knocking Dev back with a straight right kick.

"There are other ways." He ducks a right cross and takes a left jab, absorbs a left kick to the chest but backs away from a right roundhouse kick. "You move like a dancer. In one of those ballets where the ballerina dies." Dev blocks a right kick and a right jab, but Vi backs away from his right jab before lunging in and landing a quick left hook.

"And you look like a loser vampire who's too poor to own a shirt."

"Careful, Red. Contempt for your enemy can get you killed." He tries a right hook kick, but she grabs his leg and throws Dev into a light post. "And it will." Vi takes a couple quick steps forward, flies through the air and puts Dev's back on the sidewalk with a leaping right kick to his chest.

"You were saying," she scornfully replies to his empty boasts. Dev remains on his back and motions for Vi to come forward with both hands.

"Come on. I like it when the girl's on top." Vi folds her arms.

"Get up."

"Make me." She grabs his right leg and drags him out into the street. Dev leans forward, reaches his arms out, grabs Vi's arms and pulls her down to him, kissing her on the lips. Vi leaps back and spits several times as Dev stands up. This vampire sure fights dirty.

"Pity. I hear all the best Slayers find vampires arousing."

"Who'd you hear that from?"

"My father."

Rona and Elektra exchange punches. Rona tries a straight right kick, but Leks does a back flip. "Just you and me, Rona. No Watchers. No secret weapons. Just us, one-on-one."

"Just how I like to kill my vampires," she replies before attacking. Leks blocks her left jab, but takes a right hook to the head. Leks answers with a right hook of her own. Rona ducks a right kick and nails Leks in the stomach with a left kick before grabbing the vampire and tossing her to the ground. As Leks tries to get up, Rona lands a right kick to her mouth.

"I don't think you see the seriousness," Elektra states before ducking a right punch and blocking a left kick. "You're gonna die." Elektra tries a right hook kick for the ribs, which Rona blocks, then spins round and does a right roundhouse, which Rona backs away from.

"So where's the vampire who's gonna kill me," Rona asks sarcastically, sending Leks into a rage. She screams and leaps at Rona, landing a right kick to the chest, though Rona takes a step back to absorb most of the force. She then blocks Elektra's left cross and lands a left hook, followed by a right kick. Rona reaches for the stake in her right pocket, but Leks lunges and lands a right hook to her head.

"Don't even think about it! We're just getting started."

"You mean your sire," Vi asks Dev.

"I think you two have met." As Vi thinks this over, Dev charges forward and tries a right clothesline, but Vi ducks and sticks out her right foot, tripping Dev up. She chuckles as he falls on his face.

"Spike?"

"The one and only," Dev replies as he picks himself up.

"Is that supposed to impress me?"

"Daddy did teach me a few things about killing a Slayer."

After Dev saved the family in Brooklyn, Spike decided it was time to show the boy some tricks. Once Spike got healed from that nasty beating. "Gotchya," Dev says after popping Spike's nose with a left jab. They're sparing shirtless in the cavern while the women are out shopping. Spike nails Dev with a right hook to the ribs and a left uppercut to the chin, knocking him down.

"Gotchya back." Spike reaches his right arm down and pulls his son back up. "You can't just protect the face." Spike lands a right kick to Dev's stomach, then a left hook to his face. Devlin staggers, but stays on his feet. "The body blow makes you double over, and your head's a big juicy target.

"Okay dad." Devlin lowers his fists so he can protect head and body.

"He was wasting his time," Vi declares, putting Dev down with a right hook kick-left roundhouse combination.

"Now that's where your wrong." Dev puts his hands on the ground, arches his back and vaults to his feet. Vi steps forward and tries a quick left hook kick for the body, but Dev grabs her leg. She sweeps his feet with her right foot and they both go down. Dev leans forward, grabs her feet and pulls her towards him. He gets on top. She tries to knock him away with her feet, but he pulls her legs apart. She lands a right punch to his face, but he grabs her arms and tries to pin them down. Vi's too strong to let that happen. But as Dev looks down at her, bares his teeth and growls, for the first time in the fight she feels vulnerable. Soon, she grabs his head with both hands and drives his forehead into the pavement to her right, then pushes him aside and gets up.

"Sicko," Vi says. She'd never been that physically close to a vampire. It sickened her. Though their bodies were only in contact ten seconds, it felt like an eternity. She nails his nose with two left jabs, then adds a right kick to the groin. Dev groans and limps away. Vi pursues. Dev blocks her right hook, grabs both her arms and pushes her away.

"Sorry if I created a misperception. I won't do to you what I did to Hilda." Dev blocks a leaping right roundhouse with both arms. Vi blocks his left cross and nails him with a right uppercut. Dev responds by kicking her in the stomach with his left foot, landing a right hook to her face when she leans forward, and putting her down for the first time with a right kick to the chin. "Apparently you never heard of Hilda. She was a Slayer for a week. Before I killed her." Dev attacks when Vi stands up, but she blocks his left jab, ducks his right cross and sends him back with a right kick to the chest. She doesn't know if he's lying. The information, if true, would be mildly disconcerting.

"Guess what, loser? I've been a Slayer for almost a year."

"How does killing a Slayer make me a loser?"

"Me kicking your ass makes you a loser."

"Then what are you waiting for, pet? Come and get me." Vi flies forward and knocks Dev down with a right kick to the chest.

"Daddy? How do you kill a Slayer," Leks asks after Spike throws her on the bed. They're in Buenos Aires in 1984.

"By trying," he coyly replies, running his right hand up her left leg and unbuttoning her blouse with his left hand.

"I mean it."

"You're not thinking of - ?"

"Not tomorrow. But someday. And I wanna be ready. Who says only the guys in this family get to have fun."

"I'm not fun," Spike asks as he takes off his shirt and leans down to kiss her. Elektra laughs and puts her hands to his chest.

"You know what I mean. I'm a Cosmo Vampire. I can do anything a man can. And more."

"Amen to that," Spike replies, leaning in to kiss her neck.

"Oh, Spike!" Then she changes moods and pushes him away. "Tell me how. Give me a lesson." Spike smiles.

"You want a lesson? Have fun."

"I do! Always. How does that help," she asks, confused and annoyed.

"Have fun with the Slayer. Don't be scared. Just enjoy it. Try to prolong the moment," he says, kissing her stomach as she giggles. "And prolong it, and prolong it, and prolong it," he adds while she moans. "Until the Slayer can't take it any more. Then you have her." Elektra laughs and sits up, fiddling with Spike's hair.

"Tell me again."

Rona knocks Leks to the ground, then kicks her in the stomach. Elektra gets up, lands a right kick to the Slayer's right knee, then spins and connects with a right roundhouse to her head, knocking Rona down. "This is getting tedious," Elektra taunts. "Maybe we should take a break. Get something to eat." Rona is bothered by the vampire's insouciance. It's almost as if Elektra doesn't respect her.

"You've had your last meal," Rona vows.

"Is that so?" Rona lowers her head, charges forward and takes Elektra down. She lands several punches to the vampire's face and drives the back of her skull into the pavement twice before Leks grabs both her arms and pushes her off. When she gets up, Rona nails her with a right kick. Leks blocks a left kick, lands a right kick to the Slayer's stomach and tries a forward flip kick which Rona backs away from. Leks then does a back flip when the Slayer attacks. Rona tries a right cross, but Elektra does a forward flip over her head and tries a right reverse kick that Rona blocks. When Leks turns, she is met with a right cross.

"This ain't gymnastics."

"What's the matter, Rona? Can't stake a girl if she moves too fast?"

Vi lands a right kick to Dev's stomach, then a right roundhouse to his head, follow by two right hooks to his head. He staggers back, but doesn't go down. She takes out her stake, but when he bends his knees and puts his fists up she realizes he's not beaten yet. "Be honest, Vi. Has a guy ever gone this long with you?" His smile indicates he's still enjoying this, which infuriates the Slayer. She does a forward hand-spring and kicks Dev in the chest, knocking him down. Dev rolls to his feet, spins and tries a right hook kick that she blocks. He ducks her right hook kick and lands a left uppercut. She responds with a left jab, but he ducks her right cross and lands a left hook. She answers with a swift left roundhouse and moves in for the kill. He grabs her left arm when she tries a jab and throws her towards a street lamp. She grabs the pole with both hands, spins counter-clockwise and flies at Dev with a right kick. He ducks down low, but after flying past him Vi lands on her feet and lands a left reverse kick to his back. She then grabs his hair and slams Devlin's forehead into the lamp post. He blunders around, apparently woozy, but ducks a left cross and a right hook before grabbing her right foot when she tries a kick. Vi does a back flip to get free. Dev charges in, takes a right hook and grabs her shoulders, head-butting Vi in the nose. She responds with a right kick to his face. She blocks his right hook and lands a right jab, followed by two left hooks. Dev lunges forward as if trying to tackle her, wraps his right arm around her body, picks her up, spins round and slams her back into the street, his right hand pushing down on her chest, feeling her heart throb and her lungs expand and contract.

"It's a shame I gotta kill you," he says. "We're so good together." Vi takes hold of his right wrist with her left hand and pulls back his fingers with her left hand, threatening to break them. Dev stands up and extricates himself, allowing Vi to stand.

"Fucking amazing," Elektra says as she lies on her back and looks up at Spike. "That's the problem. I try to find a guy of my own, but none of them can live up to you."

"Maybe I should dial it back," he jokes.

"Don't you dare." Leks rolls over, puts Spike on his back, slashes his chest with her nails and licks up the blood.

"Duck." Leks appears confused, and stops licking.

"If you want me to go down, you don't have to use a code word."

"No," Spike chuckles, caressing her long hair with his left hand and pulling her head towards his so their faces are only a few inches apart. "It's a tip for fighting a Slayer. Remember to duck."

"When?"

"You'll know."

"And I thought mummy was the cryptic one," she says before kissing him.

"That's your problem Lex," Rona says to Leks. "All you ever do is run. You scared to stand up and fight?" That provokes Leks, who always feared her speed made her susceptible to quick retreats. She attacks. Rona backs up, blocking a left jab, ducking a right cross, blocking a right hook and nailing Leks in the chin with a right uppercut and right kick, followed by a left hook kick and right roundhouse. Elektra goes down and puts her hands over her heart to protect against a staking. Rona grabs the vampire's hair with her right hand, picks her up and drives her head into the conical metal top to the post of a chain-link fence, dazing Elektra and leaving a large red mark on her forehead just above her left eye. Sensing an opportunity, Rona goes to work, landing left and right hooks to Elektra's ribs, then left and right hooks to her face. Leks braces her arms against the top of the fence and swings her right leg upward, but Rona backs away from the kick before storming back in to add a right jab to the body, left hook to the face, right uppercut to the chin and right hook to Elektra's right eye, following this up with a right kick. As she pulls her leg back, Rona takes out her stake with her right hand and makes a back hand stab for Elektra's heart. Leks, is using her arms to hold herself up, so she can't block the stake. Instead, she bends her knees and lets her body slip towards the ground, allowing her heart to "duck" the stake, which lands three inches too high, at the base of Elektra's neck. Rona looks at the wound and is shocked and disappointed.

"You missed me bitch," Elektra screams before hitting Rona's face with the back of her right hand.

"I've been thinking about those guys who attacked us," Dev says while sparing with Spike. "Buncha white racists fighting vampires. Connection?" Spike lands a left jab. "I think so." Spike connects with a right hook. "They don't like the blacks taking over their neighborhoods. But they can't fight the blacks, cause the black gangs have guns." Dev backs away from a right cross. "So, instead, they fight the vampires, who don't have guns. Maybe fighting vampires is actually safer than a gang war." Spike grabs Dev and hurls him into the wall.

"Will you shut your gourd?"

"What if we got guns? We'd be unstoppable."

"We ARE unstoppable." Spike lands a right cross. "Now shut the bloody hell up. You can't kill a Slayer with a gun."

"I don't see why not." Spike slaps his son with his left hand and punches him with his right fist.

"What's the bloody point? What's the bloody point?"

"To make her dead?" Spike knocks his son down with a left jab.

"To make your reputation. Shoot her, and you become a laughingstock and get called a coward."

"I suppose you have a point," Dev concedes after rising to his feet. "In the grand scheme, Slayer killing is pointless since another takes her place. The only benefit would accrue to the killer in the form of increased esteem." Spike shakes his head.

"Why do I bother with you, boy?"

"Because I'm brilliant?" Spike kicks him in the stomach.

"Cuz you're family. Course, I wouldn't believe that if I hadn't been there myself," he jokes. "Now attack."

"When you're expecting it? I'm no idiot."

"It's a demonstration."

"Demonstration seems to be a word for kicking my ass."

"How else will you learn? If you've had enough, we can call this off."

"No. I'm fine. You haven't even hurt me." Spike lowers his arms. Dev lands a left jab and winds up for a right hook, but Spike beats him to the punch and lands three powerful right hooks, knocking Dev down. "Okay. Maybe now you hurt me a little," he jokes. Spike helps his son up.

"Just about everyone drops their left when they go for a right hook. That's the opening. Just like wut Schmelling did to Joe Louis."

"Yes, but without the racial and nationalist overtones."

"Now you try it."

"You're expecting it."

"I'll play dumb."

"Play," Dev asks with a smirk, causing Spike to pop him in the mouth.

"Watch your mouth. Don't talk big unless you can back it up."

"Oh, I can back it up."

"We'll see." Spike connects with a left jab. Dev hesitates, and Spike lands a right hook, knocking Dev down. "Cum on!"

"Sorry. It's a timing issue."

"We'll try again." This time, Dev takes the jab and lands his right hook, though Spike backs away from the follow-up punches. "Not good enough. You gotta hit harder, or the Slayer will have your bloody head."

"You're not a Slayer. You don't look anything like a Slayer. It's hard to pretend. Maybe with Alexa - "

"Alexa's NOTHING like a Slayer," Spike angrily insists, disgusted by the comparison. The thought that he sired Alexa to have a worshipful Slayer-substitute to shag is sickening to him.

"I just meant cause she's a teenage girl. Relax."

"I'll relax when you're able to defend yourself. Take three." Spike mixes it up, throwing two jabs before the hook, as Joe Louis did. Dev takes the first jab, ducks the second and lands a powerful right hook, staggering Spike. Two more right hooks knock him down. Spike smiles. "Now you're gettin' it!" Spike leaps to his feet and hugs the boy, then playfully puts him in a headlock and slams Dev's skull into the wall.

Vi knocks Dev back with a left roundhouse to the chest. She follows this up with a left jab, right cross and straight right hook to the chin. "You got fire," Dev tells her. Vi kicks him in the stomach with her right foot, but Dev blocks a left kick to his face. "I like fire." She lands a left jab, but he preempts her right hook with two of his own, putting Spike's lesson to use. She ducks the third right hook, but he puts Vi on her back with a left uppercut. "Are we having fun yet," he asks as he circles her. When he tries to kick her while she's down, Vi grabs his right foot and pulls him down. After they both get up, Dev blocks a left hook and right cross and tries a right kick. Vi sweeps his left leg, taking Dev down. While he's down, she lands a left cross to his face, grabs his head with both hands and slams his face into her right knee.

"NOW we're having fun." Dev gets up. He's more battered than Vi, though both are tired and hurting.

"All it takes is one mistake," Dev remembers Spike telling him, as both encouragement and warning. The two fighters step forward and back a few times, testing each other and looking for an opening.

"Who's gonna lead," Dev asks with a smirk. Vi interprets Devlin's caution as fear, and attacks. He blocks a right kick and ducks under a left kick. She blocks a left jab and ducks a right hook before connecting with a swift right roundhouse kick. Dev responds by ducking his head down, landing a left punch to her stomach and trying a lunging right cross. She steps back from the punch and nails his nose with a right kick. Vi follows this up with a right hook, beating Dev's left jab. This was the opening she needed. The Slayer follows up with two left hooks and a right uppercut. Dev blocks a left hook kick, but Vi responds by landing a right roundhouse kick. Dev spins round but stays on his feet. Vi takes her stake in her right hand and raises her arm. Now Dev sees his opening. He reaches his right arm across his body and grabs the stake when its point is six inches from his chest. With his left hand, he grabs her right shoulder and pushes, spinning her around. As she spins counter-clockwise, Dev rips the stake from her hand and flips it so the point faces the other way. Dev steps forward and drives the stake down so that it strikes her body just as Vi spins round, before she has a chance to react. The point cuts through her sternum and plunges into her heart.

Dev puts his left hand under her back, holding Vi up and gaping at what he has done. He drops the stake and instinctively leans forward and puts his mouth to her wound, gorging on the blood. It's the first human blood he's tasted in five months, and Slayer blood at that. It proves too rich, and Dev quickly feels lighthead and lies down next to Vi, just to her right. On her face is a look of shock, the product of an incredibly swift and entirely unexpected defeat. She truly never saw it coming. Never even had an inkling.

Thirty feet away, Rona and Elektra were locked in stalemate. "Ya know, this was great for a while, but now it's getting tedious," Leks quips. Rona shuts her up with a right hook.

"Don't worry, honey. I'll end it real soon," Rona promises, adding a left kick to the stomach and a right roundhouse kick to the face. Leks blocks a right hook and lands one of her own. Rona grabs the vampire and head-butts her. She blocks Elektra's right hook kick and right roundhouse follow-up, and lands a left kick to the vampire's face. Rona moves in for a right cross. Leks backs away from a left uppercut and pops the Slayer with a left jab-left hook combination. Rona spins round, and sees Vi on the ground, motionless, with a giant red wound on her chest. She can't believe her eyes, and momentarily forgets about the vampire behind her. "What happened," she asks her dead best friend as she stands there. Elektra takes advantage of this distraction, wrapping her arms around Rona, pinning the Slayer's arms to her body so that she is defenseless while Leks sinks her teeth into the right side of Rona's neck. She cries out in pain, but falls to her knees and loses strength before she can free her arms and try to save herself. For Elektra, this is one of those life-transforming, slow-motion, out-of-body moments, like when Spike bit her. After Rona's heart stops and Leks has sucked out all the blood she can, she stands up and sees her brother on the ground. She also sees Vi, and smiles.

"We did it! We did it," she yells, jumping up and down. "Dev. Yo, bro, what's wrong?" He doesn't say anything. She grabs his left arm and yanks him to his feet. Dev takes a few steps forward, doubles over and hurls, expelling the blood he just drank. Leks can't believe what she's seeing. "You bulimic or something?"

"She didn't deserve this. Neither of them did. But Buffy put them here," he declares, trying in vain to deflect blame. "She made us do this to them. She makes these girls die for her. This is her doing." Dev removes Vi's shoes.

"No it's not. We won. She'll be pissed. Which is great!" After all these years of Buffy hurting Elektra's family, she's overjoyed to be getting some payback.

"It's not like she doesn't have other girls. Will Buffy even miss them," Dev asks as he remove Vi's top.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Killing is pointless. Both sides get destroyed in the end. Doesn't Buffy realize that?" Dev pulls down Vi's pants.

"Dev, we just did the coolest thing in history. Enjoy the moment. Whoa. This Slayer blood's kicking in. This is better than sex. Actually, it would be even better with sex. Where are my boys? Oh, boys?" The vampires had kept their distance. None of them expected Dev and Leks to win, and they still can't believe their eyes. The four of them hover over Rona, half-expecting her to rise. These two Slayers had seemed all-powerful. Now they were inert, like the helpless human victims they strove to save.

"Why can't we all just get along," Devlin wonders. "I mean, us and them. Not those urchins," he adds, gesturing to the vampires they saved. "We could make each other happy. Buffy knows that better than anyone. She's such a hypocrite."

"She fucks the dead. And from the looks of it, so do you. Hey, whatever floats your boat." Dev becomes alarmed.

"You think I would violate her," Dev asks, shocked, as he jams the bloody stake in between Vi's legs.

"Why else would you take her clothes off?"

"It's a thing that warriors do."

"Whatever. We won!" She jumps up and hugs him. He pushes her away.

"Funny. Victory doesn't usually feel like this."

"It's that Debbie bitch. She's brainwashed you."

"The city is yours, Leks. Bring in more vampires. Turn this into the center of resistance. Make Buffy send more and more Slayers to put us down. Make Cleveland her ulcer." Dev puts his shirt back on walks up to the vampires, who are grateful for his efforts yet unsettled by his erratic behavior. He takes the two cameras, his umbrella and his coat. "I don't even like you people. And yet I risked my life to save yours. That's war for you." He starts to walk away, by Elektra chases him down.

"You're going back to her."

"You think this changes anything?"

"It changes everything. You're with the good guys now."

"You mean the bad guys."

"Don't go putting down your own kind."

"I thought you revelled in being bad?"

"Shut up! My point is . . . look at what you did." She tries to make him, but he turns his head away. "Hey! We made history. Is a smile too much to ask for?"

"We did what we had to. Have fun with your new friends." Dev runs off, commandeers the limo, and takes it to the airport. On the way, he makes a phone call. "I just found two dead girls. I think they were murdered."

Back at the scene of the crime, the vampires try to bite Rona, but Elektra stops them. "You want a taste? Lick it up. Lick . . . It . . . Up." They look at the puddle of vomited blood. Then they look at the Slayer Killer. They decide it's best to obey. "That's right. Lap it up like dogs. Cause you are dogs. My dogs. I saved your lives. That means I own your asses." Elektra is experiencing her first stirrings of omnipotence, and she likes it.

Devlin wasn't sure if a flight back would be available by the time he finished his work. The last direct flight left at eight, and those routed through Chicago left Cleveland by half past ten. So he used his ample bank account to charter a Gulfstream jet. He thought he would be enjoying his triumph. But all he felt was guilt. He knew he had betrayed Deb. And even if he got away with it, this secret would haunt him.

Rona and Vi were twenty minutes late. Robin thought of calling them, but decided to let them have their fun and not nag them while they were on their dates. The two of them had certainly earned the right to have a little unsupervised fun. Then the phone rang. Like a parent, Wood sensed trouble. A chill went through his body. When he answered, a cop friend of his was on the other end. Not a good sign. "Rob, I don't know how to tell you this . . . " He collapses into a chair.

"I'll be right there." He drops the phone, and remembers the night twenty eight years ago when his mother's Watcher came with the bad news. Before long, the grief would cascade across the Atlantic, to Giles, and Gretchen, and Buffy.


	58. Tainted Love

Harmony tries to figure out her relationship with Paul and his friends. Claire tries to figure out where things are going with Spike. And Deb and Dev get past their rough patch. Until another bad dream throws yet another Slayer-related spanner in the works.

Harmony woke up alone on Saturday. The only thing worse than feeling dirty was feeling dirty and abandoned. Also, there was the splitting headache. Then Sidney entered, wearing a black negligee and carrying a tray with a piping hot glass of blood on top. "Morning sleepy head. Or, afternoon." As the smiling Sidney placed the tray on the bed and sat next to Harmony, her fuzzy memories became terrifyingly clear. She throws off the sheets, tossing the blood onto Sidney's lap, and races for the door. Paul stops her.

"Harm, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong? You freaks drugged me and had your way with me," she accuses, grabbing her aching head, the result of a drug hangover. "You spiked my blood! And here I was, thinking you were my friends."

"Friends with massive benefits," Sid says, walking out of the bedroom, blood dripping down her thighs. "Someone's gonna have to lick this up." Paul and Luiz smile. "Someone with a woman's touch." Harmony backs away in fear.

"Stay away from me."

"That's not what you were saying last night. Or, screaming."

"That wasn't me. That was the rufies talking."

"Oh, please," Sid responds, rolling her eyes. "GHB is so human. Do you know how much liquid ex a vampire would have to drink for it to work? Well, I do. And, trust me, it's enough to make you hurl. We use something far better."

"Just what kinda mickey did you slip me?"

"A mix of stuff that kills humans but works great on vamps."

"It's been around for like a decade," Paul adds.

"Devlin got some college boys to mix up a batch for us, even though he's not a user," Luiz reports.

"Dev's really anti-drug. But then he drinks a lot," Sidney notes. "Don't you find that hypocritical?"

"You raped me," Harmony yells, miffed by their pointless small talk. Sid's too shocked to respond. Paul and Luiz also need some time to mull it over.

"Is that possible," Paul asks. "Can a girl do that to another girl? Cause you definitely said yes to me."

"And me," Luiz adds.

"And me," Sid says with a smile. Harm slaps her. The boys think they are about to witness a cat fight. Instead, Harmony opens the door and tries to leave, but is repelled by the blazing sun.

"There are worse things than being trapped for the day with the three of us," Sidney argues. Harmony moves away from her and ends up in a corner. "And last night wasn't one of those things." She finally backs away in frustration. "You're scared, Harm. But not of me. Of yourself. You're scared to have fun. You still have all those human hang-ups about rules and boundaries and what good girls aren't supposed to do."

"No I don't. I'm bad. Badder than any of you."

"That why you work nine to five," Luiz asks scornfully.

"Why do you date humans? At least I have a life that's not about helping them and waiting around to do their bidding. You're Slayer lackeys. And there's nothing worse than being a Slayer lackey."

"Enough of the name calling," Sidney says, trying to make peace. "We're all friends here."

"Not anymore."

"Don't say that, Harm," Paul pleads.

"You're scared people will find out," Sidney guesses. "You're scared of being embarrassed. Embarrassed of what? Of being so hot that vampires of both sexes are willing to go to great lengths to get close to you? When other vamps find out, they'll be jealous, girl. They'll wish they were you."

"You're telling?"

"It's a hypothetical, Harm." Harmony looks confused. "No. No. We're not telling. You think we want our human hubbies to find out about last night?"

"That's right. You cheated!" The three vampires laugh.

"Monogamy is a human concept connected to reproduction," Luiz argues. "Since we can't reproduce, we have no need for it." Clearly this is a canned line someone taught him. Since Sidney glances at him and smiles, chances are it's hers.

"Guilt and modesty are human emotions," she adds. "We have about as much use for them as we do for bread and salad." Harmony doesn't realize she's being indoctrinated into a cult because the cult is so benign in its beliefs and practices.

"Maybe you're right. But I have a headache."

"That's heavy, man," Luiz says to Paul, thinking that Harmony's making a clever metaphor about the lingering effects of last night.

"It usually happens your first time," Paul responds, taking her complaint more literally. "Next time you'll come down fine."

"Next time? I don't know about you, but I don't need drugs to have fun."

"So next time we do it au naturale."

"Stop it. Get away from me. I trusted you."

"So things got a little out of control. Isn't that what life's all about?"

"I'm not like that. I'm not like you. Maybe that makes me boring - "

"And bourgeoise," Sidney adds, further confusing Harmony.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not Orgy Girl'."

"Who is," Sid asks with a giggle. "Sometimes you need to become someone else. What's life without a few out of body experiences?"

"Out of body experience? Get over yourself, Sid," Harmony responds witheringly.

"Can we be alone," Paul asks his friends, who shuffle off to the kitchen.

"So am I the first girl you drugged?"

"Yes. Actually, no. Wait a second. I didn't drug you."

"What do you call it when you give me drugs?"

"So, then, buying you a beer is drugging you?"

"No. Because I know I'm drinking a beer. You didn't even tell me you were spiking the blood."

"Spiking. That's a good word for it."

"You're lucky I'm not kicking your ass and throwing you out that window to a burning, painful death."

"It's because of Spike."

"What? This was his idea?"

"Not exactly. You dated Spike. He's a legend. I didn't know how I would measure up."

"Trust me, you measure up fine."

"That's not what I meant. But, thank you, by the way. I didn't want you to be disappointed. I was afraid I wouldn't be enough for you."

"So I'm some freak that can't be with just one guy?"

"No. You're a goddess to me." Though still pissed, Harmony manages a smile. "I thought you should be treated like one. And worshipped. Admit it – last night was fun."

"I don't think fun's the right word."

"Spectacular."

"Icky's more like it."

"Wonderful."

"Scary."

"Okay, let's stop debating the past and arguing over terminology. I'm sorry you feel tricked. Maybe things got a little out of hand. How bout I make it up to you."

"You betrayed me. You can't just make up something like that."

"We're both stuck here for the day. Let's say we spend it together. Just the two of us."

"I love your smile. No. No. You're trying to trick me again. I'm strong. I don't need you and your orgy buddies."

"You look great."

"No I don't. My hair's all frizzy, and I need a shower."

"Me too." Once again, Harmony weakens for a moment.

"No! You're not gonna smile and charm your way out of this."

"How about groveling and begging?" Paul falls to his knees.

"Stop it. I'm serious." Paul bounds to his feet.

"As you wish, my lady. That's what today's about. Your wish is my command." Harmony thinks about this.

"Really?"

"Whatever you want? You want someone killed?"

"Yeah! Wait. You can't kill. And, anyway, they don't live around here anymore." Harmony hopes Devlin can take care of a few of her old Sunnydale enemies.

"I was joking. But, otherwise, I'm at your complete disposal."

"Can we ditch the friends?"

"They kinda live here."

"What happened to my wish is your command?"

"I promise, you won't even know they're here."

"I'd really like to, just, go home, and be alone. Last night gave me a lot to think about. Maybe too much."

"That doesn't like fun. Come on, Harm. Certain boredom, or possible bliss. The choice is yours."

Spike plunges a stake into a woman's heart. From the blood that gushes out, and the fact that she doesn't disintegrate, he realizes she's human. He looks at the bloody stake, then looks back to see her face. But before he can glimpse it, he wakes up.

Spike shoots up out of bed. He tastes blood in his mouth, and reaches his left hand up to his face, feeling blood on his lips and chin. It wasn't his blood. He looks to his right, and is relieved to see Claire sleeping peacefully and unharmed. Then whose blood was it? Spike rushes into the bathroom and washes off the blood. He rinses his mouth, but can still taste human blood in his throat, as if he regurgitated something he didn't even ingest. This was strange. A dream about biting someone might make sense as a flashback or a manifestation of fears about going evil. Was he subconsciously fearful of mistakenly killing a human while out trying to save lives? Then there was the question of the mystery blood. He walks back to the bed and checks Claire's neck once again, just to be sure. It's a fetching neck. The sort he once would have delighted in biting. She knew so little about him. She had no idea what he was capable of.

"I can't believe it," Xander says Sunday morning.

"I don't know how this could happen," Buffy adds.

"Out of all the girls . . . they were the last I thought would be in danger," Giles offers.

"I'm going," Buffy declares.

"To Cleveland," Xander asks.

"No you're not," Giles insists.

"Something just took down two of our most powerful Slayers," an outraged Buffy snaps back. "Who else is strong enough to take care of this?"

"It will be just like Vienna. And Budapest. And Prague. And Krakow."

"That's a European thing. I'm fine in the states."

"The vampires won't fight you, Buffy. They're too afraid."

"The downside of being a legend," Xander quips.

"So I turn up, the demons flee, and the Hellmouth's safe. Isn't that what we want?"

"Sooner or later, you'll have to leave, and they'll return."

"So we send in a few Slayers to take my place."

"From where?"

"We have more girls getting trained all the time."

"Send newcomers? Are you mad?"

"Yes. But not like you mean it. We have to put a stop to this."

"They were four blocks from the house," Wood tells Gretchen, who's standing in the hall outside the room where the others are meeting. "I should have been there. I could have saved them."

"You had no way of knowing. This came completely out of the blue."

"I should have been more careful."

"You were kicking butt. The demons had left. The vampires were in hiding."

"It was a plan. They were suckering us into complacency."

"I hate to say this, but if you were there, chances are you'd also be dead. You know that, Rob."

"Maybe it would be fairer that way."

"To who? To the Slayers who'd never get your guidance? To the vampires you wouldn't kill? We have to go on. It's what they'd want."

"They'd want to still be alive."

"Four blocks. That's what you said, right? Four blocks. How long do you think it would have taken them to cover that distance?"

"They could have been surrounded."

"Then why only one bite mark?"

"I don't know." This did seem to contradict Robin's conjecture that they were outnumbered and overwhelmed.

"They came across two vampires they thought they could take, and they got unlucky."

"Both?"

"Really unlucky."

"Then I could have made a difference."

"So next time you keep the Slayers on a shorter leash. We can't go back."

"I know," he says ruefully. "Rupert must be disappointed in me."

"That's the last thing on his mind. Anyway, he knows better."

"It's hard to believe they're really gone."

"These things happen. I hate to be insensitive, but just because Slayers don't have to die doesn't mean they won't die."

"But these two - "

"Were better than the others. But they were still mortal. Superpowers don't change that."

"We can't lose the Hellmouth," Buffy declares.

"What do you mean lose," Giles asks. "How do you define it? Is losing having a few demons living in the area without fear, or is it the end of the world? There's a huge difference."

"You're willing to tolerate innocent deaths?"

"Innocent people die all the time. The goal is to have far fewer dying than before we entered the town."

"The demons have to know they're not in charge. We need to bring in as many Slayers as it takes."

"From where?"

"Detroit. Saint Louis. Chicago."

"And lose what we've gained there?"

"What do you mean lose," Xander asks. "The vampires they've dusted in those cities aren't coming back."

"Let's assume more demons enter Cleveland now that they think it's an open city, and we send six Slayers to retake the town. The demons will just flee – to Chicago, Saint Louis, Detroit. In other words, they'll go to the exact same places the Slayers abandoned."

"Then we leave two or three at the Hellmouth and send the rest back where they came from."

"It's like punching sand. You can't crush the vampires; you just make them spread out. The only way to defeat them is be patient and wait for our numbers to increase. Victory isn't going to come in a set-piece battle. This isn't Sunnydale," Giles adds with mild condescension, irritating Buffy. "Victory will be slow, and will require the gradual garrisoning of more and more towns as our numbers increase."

"So now you're siding with Gretchen against me," she asks angrily. Gretchen has been the big proponent of taking it slow. Just then, Gretchen enters, making everyone nervous.

"Did I just hear my name," she asks innocently.

"How are things with Wood," Buffy says nervously.

"He's cursed. I told him not to blame himself."

"It's gotta bring back some bad memories for him," Xander notes.

"And the best way to stop a downward guilt spiral is to keep him busy and get him some new Slayers," Gretchen proposes. "Olivia and Susan are ready to go."

"But they have no experience," Buffy counters.

"Then get them a Slayer each from the other midwestern cities."

"That leaves the other Slayers alone," Buffy observes. "I don't think we want that right now."

"So pull both girls from Detroit and Saint Louis. Leave Chicago protected."

"We understand this is only for the short term," Giles interjects. "We can't start abandoning places we've pacified."

"We'll reshuffle as more girls come down the pike. Bonnie and Diana should be done with their tour of the British Isles in a month. We're adding a Slayer a week. Before long, we'll be everywhere." Buffy is happy she got her way, but concerned that Gretchen and Giles seem to be monopolizing the decision-making process. First the Slayer trainees trust Gretch more than Buffy. Now Rupert. All she's got left on her side are her friends and the Sunnydale veterans.

Paul dips a strawberry in blood and feeds it to Harmony as they lie on his bed. They take wine glasses, link arms, giggle and drink some more blood. Then they laugh and kiss and exchange blood. "I could get used to this," Paul confesses.

"What about your girlfriend?"

"Melanie? She's great. But not like you. I've never met a vampire like you." Harmony sighs and kisses him. No one's ever told her that.

"It's dark. Wanna go out?"

"I'd rather stay in. Wouldn't you?" He kisses her neck and runs his left hand up her right leg.

"Oh Paul. You don't quit."

"What can I say? You inspire me."

"These boys are major disappointments," Elektra says early Sunday morning as she smokes a cigarette and looks at the three male vampire naked and conked out in her hotel room.

"Maybe I could help," the female vampire tentatively suggests.

"Kat! I had no idea."

"I'm not – it's not my thing. But you did kill a Slayer. I mean, I owe you."

"That's sweet." Leks walks over and caresses her face. "You're a pretty girl. Too back Dev didn't stay. He coulda used you." Elektra's experience fending off Slayers has led her to view all other vampires as either fodder or slaves. She understands the power killing a Slayer has bestowed on her, and is eager to exploit it.

"What's his problem?"

"Where do I start? Dev's never been right in the head. You think he's cute?" Leks has always enjoyed finding her hapless brother prospective girlfriends.

"Not really. Maybe a little. He sure is brave."

"Dev takes after his father."

Claire wakes up a little after nine and is surprised to see Spike awake and dressed. "When did I become the nocturnal one?"

"I couldn't sleep," he responds, flipping through the channels.

"Another bad dream?"

"Actually, yes."

"Fuck 'em. You're a good guy. A great guy. Fuck your subconscious."

"I'm a killer. You know that."

"You kill bad things."

"Demons. People. It doesn't make much of a difference. There's a fine line."

"That's bullshit."

"What if I started killing bad humans? Where do you draw the line?"

"You need to get out more, Spike. You spend all your time here, or in that fucked up office, or alone in alleys. Other than me, how many people do you know in LA?"

"Fred. Wesley. Charles."

"Normal people."

"I'd hardly call you normal, Claire." She smiles and sits down next to him on the couch.

"How bout today you hang out at my house?"

"In the guest room?"

"With my family."

"Wut? Don't they hate me?"

"They barely know you."

"Maybe we should keep it that way."

"Why? I want them to see what a great guy you are. They have this vision of your with capes and velvet and fangs, and none of it's true. Except for the fangs. Which you don't even use."

"And how should I get over there? You're way up north."

"You can take the subway. And the tunnels. Or, use your blanket."

"That'll make a good picture. Hey mum, meet my smoldering boyfriend."

"Smolderingly hot." She puts her right hand on his left thigh and kisses the right side of his neck.

"Okay. Okay! You win, Claire. I'll give the family a shot."

"Thanks." She kisses him on the lips. "I think I'm starting the fall in love with you." Claire stands up and walks over to the door to put on her coat while Spike sits frozen, with his mouth open, feeling all sorts of dread.

Late Saturday night, Harmony is awakened by the smell of blood. She sees Paul lying next to her with a glass. "How'd you know," she jokes, taking the glass and drinking. "Nutmeg?"

"And crushed cloves. Gives the blood an extra kick."

"And makes my mouth feel all hot."

"As if it wasn't already." He leans in and kisses her. Then Harmony notices Sidney and Luiz in the room.

"What's going on? Are they gonna watch?"

"Hardly," Sid says with a smirk.

"Oh no. Not again. I can't believe you thought I'd - " Harmony stammers as she gets up and walks to the door, which Sidney blocks.

"We just wanna give you a little going away present."

"A big screaming, Thank you, you're the best'," Luiz adds, putting his arms around her from behind and kissing her neck.

"You're, you're welcome. Stop it Lou. That tickles."

"Just close your eyes and think of Heaven," Paul suggests, turning Harmony's head to the left and kissing her on the lips.

"Your hands. There's four of them."

"Well, six."

"Six? Sid? Where is she?" Harmony moans and falls to the ground, smiling.

"But how do you get the onion into that shape," David asks Spike.

"You soak it in ice water. That's the key."

"I still don't buy it."

"Let me show you." Spike gets up and opens the fridge.

"I don't understand why a bar would go to all that trouble for an appetizer," George adds.

"You sure this wasn't a gay bar," David jokes.

"Trust me. The Bronze was anything but."

"The Bronze what," Ruth asks. "I don't get the name." David's older brother Nate looks on.

"Isn't this great," his kid sister Claire asks.

"Aside from why the fuck a vampire is in our house on a Sunday morning, why the fuck would that vampire know how to cook?"

"Spike's a humanist vampire." Claire remembers something she wanted to show to Spike, and runs off to her room in the guest house. Ruth joins her son Nate in the living room.

"What can Claire possibly see in him," she whispers.

"I think we know the answer." They both cringe slightly. "The real question is what does she still see in him? She's acting like he's her boyfriend."

"It's scary. Usually I don't get involved in this part of her life. She's an adult. She can make her own decisions. But this is just beyond the pale."

"Emphasis on pale."

"It's downright unnatural. Now, I know that certain ignorant and bigoted people say that about what David does, but that's completely different."

"Entirely different. Not even close."

"Where does she think this is leading? Where could it possibly lead?" Claire opens the door and runs past them into the kitchen, carrying a poster.

"Here it is!" Spike turns around and is pleasantly astonished.

"So I guess getting my body covered in paper mache was worth it." David looks mildly disgusted.

"Half his body." Claire's taken a picture of Spike's chest and head, cut it up and pasted the pieces on a mold of his body, making Spike look like a puzzle. "I think it represents his disintegration and resurrection. Depending on how you look at it, he's either falling apart or coming back together."

"It's beautiful, Claire."

"It wasn't that hard to make you look beautiful," she whispers.

"I should be getting home," David says, nervously walking to the back door.

"What about the flower," Spike asks.

"I'll try it at home. See if Keith likes it," he mutters before closing the door.

"It's cloudy," Spike notes. "I should probably take advantage and get back to my flat. Get some rest."

"I'll drive you," Claire suggests. It's on my way to Anita's."

"No it's not," her mother points out.

"It's not that far out of the way. Plus, it's better than making you run for it."

"I'm not so sure about that," Ruth responds, sounding like Giles talking to Buffy about Spike. Claire scowls, grabs Spike's coat and heads out with him.

"Goodbye," Luiz says.

"See you soon," Sidney adds with a wink.

"Maybe someday you could play hooky from work and hang out with me again," Paul suggests.

"I'd really like that. But I might get fired."

"Do it on one of those days your boss is busy saving the world or something."

"I'll think about it." Harmony leaves the grinning trio behind. It's five in the morning. She needs to drive home before sunrise, and the other vampires need to get a few hour's rest before their boyfriend and girlfriends come back from their field trip. As Harmony races up I-5, she feels ashamed of her debaucheries. She doesn't buy Sid's line that, as vampires, they're supposed to be debauched. Harm has standards. Or, at least she did before this weekend. Doors she didn't want opened had been blown away. Life was full of scary new possibilities that both disgusted and intrigued her. How was she supposed to deal with this contradiction? Maybe what she did was flat-out wrong, and Paul and his friends took advantage of innocent Harmony. Then again, perhaps it was wrong and gross to do what she did on a regular basis, but there was no harm in trying it once. Or, twice, as it was. Nothing wrong with experimentation, so long as it didn't become a habit. She thought of Paul's girlfriend and how she had no idea what he was doing behind her back. How would Harmony feel if she were Melanie? But Harmony wasn't much for empathy even as a human, so she quickly lets that thought pass unanswered. When Harmony gets home, she sits on her bed, still feeling ashamed and nervous and dirty. She had to figure out what all this meant. But first she needed a shower. However, before she could do anything, an exhausted Harmony passed out on the bed.

"Spike, I told you it would go well."

"Your mother still doesn't like me."

"I think she's still getting used to you."

"Sorry, luv. I got along better with Buffy's mum, and she attacked me with an ax."

"Granted, mom's not crazy about me dating a vampire. Maybe it's a generational thing."

"I'm about four generations older than you."

"Which is still pretty young in vampire years, right?"

"There's no such thing as vampire years."

"You know what I mean. You're like half Angel's age."

"Back when we were at my place, you said you loved me."

"I did?"

"Right before you left."

"Oh. I think I love you. I'm not sure. Is this a problem?" Right then, the sun comes back out, and Spike has to duck under the dashboard.

"Right now, I have bigger problems."

"Are you okay, Spike? Is it burning you?"

"I'm fine. Just, hurry."

Debbie came home around noon. Devlin was at her desk, typing on the computer. He quickly closes his document, leaps to his feet and spins around. "You're back."

"What happened to your face?"

"I got jumped in Mexicali. It was all a setup. The vampires wanted to kill me for turning on my kind. Barely escaped with my life. Anyway, how was your weekend?"

"Dry and dusty."

"You're beautiful."

"Please, Dev. I'm sunburned. My hair's all frizzy." He steps forward, grabs Deb and kisses her. She kisses him back.

"I missed you, Deb."

"I missed us." She pushes him onto the desk. "I want us to be like we were. The past is past, right?"

"No. The past is dead."

"The gallery was ho hum," Anita reports. "The after party was boring. You didn't miss anything. So how was Spike?"

"He was, Spike," Claire responds with a sly grin.

"What does that mean?"

"He has a bike."

"A motorcycle. I hope you mean a motorcycle."

"Yeah. He took me out to dinner and a play."

"Sounds boring."

"It was sweet. We were just like any other couple. Then I went back to his place and he fucked my brains out."

"So much for being like any other couple."

"Is coming five times normal?" Anita's jaw drops.

"In a week, maybe."

"So I really am as lucky as I feel?"

"I don't think Edie's ever had that many, and she's with girls who know their way around. God! You lucky bitch!"

"It's not just about the sex."

"So you wouldn't mind sharing him?" Claire looks upset. "Don't worry. I'm happy with Russell. Even if lately all he does is whine about how you stole his idea. Okay, I'm not that happy with Russell. Maybe I should go find a vampire to fuck my brains out."

"It's not the vampire I love. It's the man."

"Love? Whoa! You two are serious?"

"I don't know. He's got commitment issues. I know that if this Buffy girl came back - "

"You mean the girl who wasn't giving him any? She had her chance. No guy is gonna choose to be celibate when he's got other options."

"The problem is, I don't know if that's all I am to him."

"You think he's using you for sex?"

"No. He's too nice to do that. And guilty. God knows he doesn't need anything else on his conscience."

"Well there you go. He's gotta care for you. This guy, or, guy-plus, can have any woman he wants, and he picks you. Don't sell yourself short, Claire."

"Any woman he wants? You think he's that hot?"

"Don't you?"

"I'm fucking him. That doesn't exactly make me objective."

"The guy's got it going on. Even without the vampire part. I say quit worrying and count your blessings. You got real lucky, girlfriend. Enjoy it. I know I would."

Debbie lies on the bed to Devlin's right. They both stare at the ceiling. "Wow."

"Yeah."

"Is it night already." Dev turns around and glances out the window.

"Yep. You thinking of going somewhere?"

"No." She rolls on top of Dev and kisses him.

"Will you still love me when you're twice my age?"

"I thought you didn't think that far ahead? What about letting me go so I could live a normal life?"

"You're a Slayer. Normality's already tenuous. Call me selfish, but right now I'm not even considering leaving you." She smiles.

"Really? You're not just saying that cause we - ?"

"Broke through entirely new dimensions?" They both giggle. "Now that I'm this happy, I don't think I could live any other way. What's the point? It will all be downhill after you."

"I won't always be young like you. What about when I'm wrinkled and sagging?"

"Hopefully your Slayer Powers will mitigate the aging process." She punches him in the ribs. "And even if it doesn't, hell, I still think you'd be hot at forty."

"What if I don't make it? Mine is a dangerous line of work."

"I'll throw myself on your funeral pyre."

"And if I'm buried? I don't know if they do funeral pyres around here. I think it's against the Orange County fire code or something."

"If suti's not an option, I'm sure I'll find something appropriate spectacular. Like taking on all my enemies at once. Suicide by combat." Suddenly, Devlin closes his eyes and goes to sleep, his mouth still open.

"Dev? Honey?" She shakes him, but it does not good.

Dev gets up at quarter past seven the next morning, just after Debbie gets dressed. "I've never seen you sleep that long."

"Had a little too much fun, I suppose." He gets up and walks into the kitchen.

"Wait!" She rushes into the kitchen and closes the blinds. "I went out patrolling last night."

"Patrolling? And you didn't wake me?"

"I tried. Keep your pants on. I didn't find any." Devlin takes a jug of blood out of the fridge and drinks it cold, a full two quarts.

"You know, that's really disgusting."

"That's why I don't make it part of our foreplay," he quips.

"Gotta head to school. I'd kiss you, but, the blood."

"Yeah. That's kind of a turn-off for non-vampires."

"You mean it's a turn-on for you?"

"Not really."

"Maybe I should pour some of that stuff on me tonight and let you go to work." He smiles. "Kidding, sicko."

"I knew that." She walks towards the front door. "I'll decide on how I'll get my soul back today."

"Cool. Love ya."

"You too."

In the period before lunch, the history teacher turns off the lights and shows a video. Debbie tries to keep her eyes open, but soon falls asleep. She sees Devlin raising a stake, and feels it stabbing into her chest. She wakes up and screams, which alarms her classmates to say the least. She glances at the video, which is about the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire. Dev had mentioned that event in passing to note that, unlike the other young women who died on that day, a Slayer probably could have survived the eight story plunge. "Sorry. Just a little scary, right?"


	59. Things fall apart

"Anything else on the agenda this morning," Angel asks Wes, Fred, Gunn and Lorne.

"Harmony's hiding something," Lorne reports.

"How d'ya know," Fred asks.

"She's afraid. I walked passed her, and she clammed up. As if she wanted to be sure nothing got out in the ether for me to pick up."

"How do we know it's work related," Wesley, who brought her into the office, asks.

"What's the harm in testing her," Gunn asks. "No pun intended."

"Make her sing," Angel orders. Lorne walks out into the lobby.

"Excuse me Harmony. Can I um, see, we're doing random testing, and if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I'd like to test you."

"I was already tested today. My blood came back clean."

"I meant a singing test."

"Why today?"

"Why not today?"

"Can you do this? I have rights, you know. A right to privacy. A right not to incriminate myself."

"Who's been telling you about these rights," Lorne wonders.

"No one. I've been reading the employee manual."

"Then you know that when you joined Wolfram & Hart, you signed away all constitutional rights. Actually, as a vampire, you never had them."

"I have a sore throat."

"It'll just take a second."

"Maybe tomorrow?"

"Believe me when I say I don't enjoy this any more than you. Probably less. So let's just get this over with. Or you're fired."

"What? You can't fire me."

"But Angel can."

"Oh. Oh all right." She stands up. "What should I sing?"

"Whatever you want." Harmony thinks a little while and fidgets nervously. "The phone rings, in the middle of the night. My father says When you gonna live your life right?' Oh daddy dear you know you're still number one, but girls, they wanna have fu-un. Oh, girls just wanna have - that's all we really wa-a-a-ant. Just fu-u-u-u-un. When the working day is done," she croaks.

"Stop. Enough. Thank you. We're done. You passed."

"I did?"

"You're free and clear."

"Did you, did you see anything?"

"Nothing work related. Good day." Lorne rushes back into the meeting room. "Good news. It was just an orgy!"

"What was," Fred asks.

"Harmony. The other night, she engaged in your standard quad. Two guys, two girls, various combinations. We've all been there." Fred, Wes and Gunn stare at Lorne, shocked and a little sickened. "I mean, all of us demons." They look at Angel, who unconvincingly shakes his head. "They weren't employees, so it's none of our business. She's just feeling a little confused. We all do after our first time."

"Meeting adjourned," Angel announces. Everyone leaves without looking at Lorne, who's said far too much.

"Spike, did you hear," an excited Fred asks early in the afternoon. "Course you didn't. I haven't told ya. Dev's gonna get a soul! Maybe not today. Or next week. But sometime in the next month. He does hafta travel a long way. But he's doin' it! He's really doin' it."

"That's my boy," he responds wanly.

"What's wrong?"

"You can't put too much faith in someone Fred. Especially not a vampire," he answers cryptically before walking away. Fred suspects he's talking about himself.

"Why'd you break up my meeting," an angry Angel asks Spike.

"I didn't break it up. I solved it. You couldn't decide which demon to back, so I killed the uglier one. End of meeting." His demon clan in the lobby is still wailing and gnashing their teeth.

"Angel, can you call security," Harmony asks. "I can barely hear myself think." Angel and Spike each take a few seconds to consider responding to this remark.

"Too easy," Angel says to Spike after she closes the door.

"In more ways than one."

"I've already heard too much today about her private life."

"You what," an alarmed Spike exclaims.

"Nothing about you."

"Oh. So how are things with Nina?"

"Great."

"She still palling around with Oz?"

"I think she's good for him."

"I'm sure he agrees."

"Are you implying something?"

"Don't you think you're leading her on?" Angel slams Spike into the wall.

"Don't you dare talk about her like that."

"Hands off, cro-mag," Spike replies, freeing himself. "I'm just saying, the girl-wolf's head over heels for you. She's got expectations you can't fulfill." Angel knocks Spike down with a right hook. "Not those. The big stuff. Love, marriage, white picket fence. You're her hero. Which means you can't help but let the poor bird down."

"We're not talking about me, right?"

"At least I am."

"Maybe you're right. No way a girl could fall in love with you."

"Bollocks! You know better. Buffy said - "

"I really, really don't ever want to hear anything Buffy said to you."

"And Drusilla - "

"Was insane."

"I didn't come here to quibble about old times."

"Then why did you come in here, kill a client, and ruin my afternoon?" The demons are still wailing. Spike opens the door.

"Oh boo hoo! Get over it, or I'm taking off your heads, too!" They quickly quiet down. He closes the door. "That's better."

"Answer me. What was on your mind? You miss spending time with me?" Spike laughs. "It's that girl. The one who looks like Willow."

"She does not!"

"Did she make some art for you?"

"How'd you know?"

"Nina's made a couple things for me."

"Cuz you saved her life."

"You saved Claire's life. Well, you helped me save Claire's life."

"Glory hog."

"Drama queen."

"Preening prima donna."

"I don't preen."

"Wut were we talking about?"

"Claire."

"Nina."

"Our girlfriends. I mean, Your girlfriend. And mine," Angel qualifies. This reminded him what Lorne said about Harmony, bringing back memories of the old days with Dru and Darla.

"Whatever. Same bloody difference."

"She said she loved you."

"Don't tell me what she said. Wut do you know?"

"You said it yourself. Well, you tiptoed around it. Talk about preening."

"I'm not the one leading a girl on."

"Then why are you here?"

"She's not a girl. She's a bloody archetype. You and your blondes."

"You want to fight?"

"No. I'll throw you out the window some other day."

"Because you're doing everything you can to provoke me."

"Claire's falling for me. Girl can't help it."

"Don't make me gag."

"What did you do when Nina said she loved you?"

"Actually, - "

"She hasn't? Oh. Sorry. Thought you could relate."

"Oh grow up. Act like an adult or get the hell out of my office."

"How do you do it? How do you keep her expectations down?" Angel glares at Spike.

"You're trying. But you're so accustomed to being a jerk that you can't help yourself."

"Now who's name-calling?"

"You didn't tell her about Buffy. I can't believe. No, I can. You're slippery. You'll do anything to get in a - "

Spike charges Angel, who throws him over the desk. Spike overturns the desk and goes bumpy. Harmony peaks in. "Should I cancel your two o'clock?"

"We'll be done in five minutes."

"You're not gonna kill each other, are you?"

"Not today."

"Goodie. Not that I want to sleep with you again, Spike. I've found someone else. Several someone elses. And they treat me much better than you ever did."

"Smashing, luv. Now give us a minute, would you?" She leaves. "Claire's known about Buffy from day one. She thinks we have something unique and special. Which we do, but, I just want to know how to dash a girl's expectations. What's your secret?"

"You can't be this dumb. You really want me to throw you through that glass wall."

"No thank you. I think I'll do it myself." Spike leaps backwards and shatters the glass. He stands up, brushes himself off, and calmly walks into the elevator. Harmony looks over her shoulder at Angel.

"You two really need to lighten up."

"I've made my choice," Devlin proudly says to Debbie when she comes home from school. "It's that trial and spiritual quest in Bhutan. There's some danger involved, but I'm sure I'll be able to mitigate it."

"Did you really go to Mexicali this weekend?"

"Yes. Unfortunately."

"You didn't use my trip as a chance to run off and kill a Slayer?"

"What? Why would I - ? I've already done that. I'm through with that way of life."

"I think you said there's one in Denver. And Seattle. That's where you're from."

"It's my adopted home. But if a Slayer died there, it wasn't my doing."

"Tell me the truth."

"I went to Mexico and got jumped. I'm not very proud of it, but that's what happened."

"Because you wouldn't lie to someone you love."

"Of course not. Especially you."

"Then why did I have a dream about you killing another Slayer?"

"It's that witch Willow. She gave you your Slayer Power, so she can certainly mess with your head."

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"It felt so real."

"Why would I kill another Slayer? Why would I risk my life to do something that wasn't for you? It's irrational. That's not me. I'm not looking for dragons to slay. Not anymore," he says as he walks over and puts his hands on her shoulders.

"I need some rest. I didn't get much sleep at Joshua Tree. And you know what we did yesterday took a little out of me," she says with a smirk.

"Just a little," he jokes back. She gives him a quick peck on the lips and goes into her bedroom. Only when she's out of view does Devlin's face betray his concern. Willow was being pesky. It was like she could see over his shoulder from thousands of miles away and relay his actions to Debbie. She would have to be delt with. Preferably from a safe distance.

Sunday night was wonderful for Elektra and her four minions. They went anywhere they wanted and killed without fear. Robin considered making a stand, but knew that would probably be a death sentence. So he stayed home, safely brooding over the loss of life. There was no question of using Gloria and Susan, fresh from the Academy. They would surely fail where Rona and Vi had. But come Monday night, he would have experienced reinforcements, and the vampires would pay for their new brazenness.

Buffy, Giles and Gretchen are in the meeting room between the main and secondary courtyards, where several Slayers talk and one leaps over a fountain, flaunting her new abilities. Buffy stares out at the main courtyard, her hands behind her back. "You gave a very stirring speech," Giles assures her.

"It didn't help."

"Don't sell yourself short," Gretchen says, giving Buffy a rare compliment.

"If two experienced Slayers can fall, so can they. That's what's on their minds." Buffy turns around to face Giles and Gretch, who sit at the other side of the table.

"It's a dangerous job," Gretchen responds. "They've known that from day one."

"It's not as if before now we've had them living in denial," Giles adds, perhaps revealing too much. Dawn enters the room from the hallway.

"What is it," Buffy asks.

"I've been looking at the police report. Rona's body wasn't touched. But Vi was stripped naked and raped with her own stake."

"We know," Buffy says, annoyed by this recitation of disgusting details.

"Hilda Grubers Botha was also stripped and raped. I think there's a connection. Maybe the same vampire did both."

"It is an unusual modus operandi, to say the least," Giles notes. He'd never heard of dead Slayers being treated in such a manner in the past.

"In the modern world," Gretchen adds. "In the ancient world, it was common to strip the bodies of dead warriors. Like in The Iliad."

"Why does it matter," Buffy asks. She hates dwelling on such matters.

"If it's the same vampire, it does matter," Giles insists, backing up Dawn.

"Also, there was a puddle of blood near Vi. The police lab said it was human blood mixed with a little animal blood."

"I've heard enough," Buffy insists, annoyed at her sister's fixation on the gory details.

"The only way I can think of that happening is if a vampire who also drinks animal blood swallowed her blood and then threw up. Which is weird. A bulimic Slayer killer."

"We'll take it under advisement," Buffy responds, blowing her sister off and pissed by that last joke. It's as if Dawn didn't take the death of a Slayer seriously.

During her nap, Debbie had another dream, reliving the seconds between when Dev stabbed Vi and when she died. She thinks of her date with Trent, their wonderful kiss, and how she's beginning to like life on the Hellmouth. There are thoughts about the many demons she's killed, including the first uber-vamps she slayed right after getting her powers. Intermixed with these fond memories is disbelief that she is being done in by this short, scrawny dead boy. She remembers that she hasn't called her mother in over a month, but how her natural family seems much less important that her Slayer family. She regrets never having asked Giles about how other Slayers died. But she hadn't felt fear of death for a very long time. Everything was going so well. After the intense battle in Sunnydale, everything else seemed safe and easy. After facing the end of the world, what's a few guys with fangs? But now one of these guys with fangs had ended her life. And not a very fearsome one at that. As she falls, Vi looks to her left and sees Rona's back. She's fighting a vampire Debbie recognizes. It seems as if she's falling forever because she never hits the ground. Dev grabs her before that can happen. The last thing she senses is the feeling of Devlin's lips against her chest, about to suck out her blood.

Debbie shoots out of bed. It's nighttime. She's been asleep three hours. Her breath races. Her heart pounds. Devlin had reverted to his old ways. This was a true nightmare.

Devlin sits on the couch in the living room, his feet resting on the coffee table. He watches a replay of the previous night's Soprano's episode. "I can't believe you'd do this," he hears Debbie say behind him, her voice choked up.

"Do what, baby?"

"Don't you dare baby' me." Devlin stands and turns around. "You son of a bitch. You killed her."

"Who?" Deb knocks him down with a left hook.

"Vi!" Now she was getting names. This was most disconcerting.

"You had another dream. Willow send you another dream. She's playing with your mind."

"You killed her in Cleveland on Saturday. And don't try to deny it, cause from that look on your face I know I'm right." This was very bad. Deb knew too much. It was pointless to deny. "You stabbed her in the heart and drank her blood while Elektra killed Rona."

"Why do you care about the deaths of two complete strangers?" Deb hits him in the nose.

"Because they're like me!" She was identifying with the herd. All Devlin's work was rapidly unraveling.

"No. No she wasn't. You're free. She was Buffy's automaton."

"She was a Slayer. A human being. And you killed her. You killed her and lied to me about it."

"You expected me to tell the truth?" She decks him with a right hook. "Come on, Deb. Try seeing it from my point of view."

"Why don't you see it from hers. Why don't you see what it feels like to die." While Dev's on his back, Debbie pounds his left eye with six straight right hooks. Devlin finally gets up, backs towards the door and rips open his shirt.

"Come on. Do it! Open that chest, grab a stake, and do it! Cause if I can't live with you, what's the point?"

"You should have thought of that before skipping town to commit murder."

"I did. I thought I'd get away with it. It's one kill. I won't do it again." Deb throws a lamp into his face, cutting it badly. "I did it for you."

"What! How can you possibly say that with a straight face?"

"As long as things go perfect for them, they'll come for you. But after a setback, they have to regroup. It buys you time. I made a strategic decision to forestall their momentum." Debbie grabs an ax out of the weapons chest and tosses it at his head. Dev ducks, and the ax is stuck in the front door. "It was a one-time thing. I won't do it again. Hey, the past is dead, right?"

"No. She's dead."

"Again, you're identifying with a woman who saw you as just another number."

"What did you see her as? A meal?"

"Hardly. She was a great warrior. The woman fights to the death for a living. Sooner or later she was gonna buy it. If I didn't get her, someone else would have."

"I can't believe I believed in you. I can't believe I thought you'd changed."

"I have. I didn't enjoy it. I couldn't. And I certainly won't after I get my soul."

"You go do that. You go halfway around the world and get it. But don't even think of coming back here."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I think you're missing the point. A soul means no more killing, period."

"I thought that if I loved you I could make you into a man. But I couldn't. The demon was just waiting for a chance to pop up."

"I don't think you understand," he responds, still sounding cold and dispassionate, which Debbie sees as a sign of his soullessness. "I get a soul, you take me back, this never happens again. You tell me goodbye, I don't get a soul, more people die, and you lose the man you love."

"I've already lost him."

"You lost me when I killed Vi?"

"Yes."

"Then what about last night," he asks wickedly. She doubles over in shame and disgust. "Was that the evil me you said you loved? Was that the evil me who made you feel so wonderful?" Deb leaps across the room and drives his back into the wall, knees him in the groin and punches him in the chin. "Because that man, and the man who killed Vi, and the man who kissed you goodbye before your left town, they're all the same man. I'm all that. Which you knew from the start." She hits his face with a right hook kick. "I'm good or bad or indifferent, depending on the stimuli. Who knows? Maybe if you had been a bit more giving the past two weeks, I wouldn't have felt the need to kill, and precious Vi would still be alive." She lands a right kick to his nose, knocking Dev down. Deb retreats towards the chest while Devlin gets up. "So I suppose this is partly your fault."

"And if I say get out,' more people die?"

"Eventually."

"There is a way around that." She grabs a stake in her left hand. "I could make sure you never get out."

"Go ahead." Dev holds his arms out. "Do it. Only way I can stop you is to kill you, and I can't do that. Hell, even now, I'm not all evil." Deb tosses the stake at his chest. Dev grabs it with both hands. Deb runs forward and knocks him down with a left hook, followed by five more. Now both eyes are black and partially shut. Dev holds out the stake. "Finish me. Finish me. Finish me!" Debbie backs away. "Well then," he says as he stands up. "I guess we both still have feelings for each other. Shame we can't focus on what we have in common. She throws a knife at his face. He ducks, and the knife is stuck in the door near the ax. They both look devastated, Dev physically and emotionally, Deb just emotionally. Dev notices she's still in boxer short and a tank top. She was so upset by the dream she didn't even bother to put her clothes back on. "No shoes. Guess that rules out a chase." Dev leaves, shutting the door behind him. Deb goes back into her room. Devlin sits in his Mustang, trying to think of a way to make this better. Then he sees his clothes, his laptop, and his other possessions flying out the side window. Once she's done, Deb shuts the door, leans against her closet door, sinks to the ground and sobs uncontrollably. It was over. She was truly, desperately, inconsolably alone. And only one day earlier it seemed as if they were going to last forever.

The three vampires are on the couch watching television when they hear a knock at the door. Paul opens it and sees a badly bruised Dev. "Dude, what happened?"

"Change of plans." Dev pulls the stake he has in his right hand from behind his back and dusts Paul.

"Man, what the fuck," Luiz yells.

"You can't go back." Luiz correctly assumes Dev is there to kill him and throws a right hook. Dev ducks, pushes Luiz's face into the wall and stakes him in the back. Sidney runs for the open door, but Dev grabs her collar and pulls her back in. "Relax, Sid." He drops the stake.

"Dev, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"I skipped town, killed a Slayer, and Debbie found out. Naturally, she tried to kill me. I escaped. Now we're no longer wanted in this town."

"You killed a Slayer?"

"Yes, and plan to kill more. Wanna help?" She manages a small smile.

"You serious? You're back on the bad side?"

"I really have no choice. Course, I can't really do it alone. That's where you come in."

"Did you shoot her?"

"That would have been too easy. Hand-to-hand. Cut her open. Sucked her blood. Taped it and put it online. You can check it out if you want. But first, we have to leave."

"You and me, a couple?"

"I've always been a little jealous of Diego. Wasting all your talents on that boy. The two of us could do some serious damage."

"This is so sudden. Which goes without saying." Dev puts his right arm round her waist, pulls her closes and kisses her. At first, Sidney pulls back. Dev looks disappointed. Then she puts her right hand on the back of his head and kisses him. Dev thrusts her against the wall and puts his left hand down her pants. "I thought we were in a hurry," she asks in between gasps as he kisses her neck.

"I am." Dev goes bumpy and bites through her spinal cord. She looks even more shocked than before, which is only natural, since she's about to die. "Sorry Sid. Gotta make a clean break. Her mouth wide open in disbelief, she turns to dust. Dev returns to his human face and calmy licks her blood of his teeth and lips. He looks around for a few seconds. This was the place where he first trained Debbie, where they first spent time together, where he courted her. But memories could wait. He had one more visit to make.

Lorne is at Spike's apartment. The two of them are playing Space Invaders when Dev kicks the door open. He holds a half-empty bottle of Stolichnaya vodka in his right hand, and looks even worse than he did at the last vampire hang-out he crashed. What's more, he launches into song:

"It doesn't pay to try.

All the smart boys know why.

It doesn't mean I didn't try.

I just never know why.

You can't put your arms around a memory.

So don't try. Don't try."

Lorne runs past Devlin out the door. "Here anything interesting," he asks.

"You messed up," Spike says, slowly walking over and looking very serious.

"I am your son."

"I told you it wouldn't last."

"It was lasting. It was lasting great! Until that Willow witch started messing with Deb's head."

"Wut was that?"

"Two weeks ago, she had a dream about me killing Hilda." Spike recalls also having that dream about a fortnight ago. "It was a horrible, brutal kill, as killings go, so you can understand if she was a little skittish around me once that she knew what I was capable of."

"Debbie saw you kill Hilda?"

"Debbie WAS Hilda." And Spike was Devlin. So, in a sick way, during that simultaneous dream Spike was raping and killing Debbie. "I work so hard to overcome that obstacle, and then along comes an opportunity. A golden opportunity."

"Elektra. She came back." Spike remembers the suspicious killings in Los Angeles the previous week.

"You're catching on, blondie," Dev says with a laugh as he staggers sideways.

"I could light your breath on fire," Spike notes.

"Careful. You might go up in flames. But why bother? I am you. I did what you would do. Tried to have it all. Two Slayers. No one's ever killed two at the same time. Until we did it. Debbie's away. How would she know? Without the witch, she wouldn't. Deb thinks I betrayed her. She doesn't understand that Rona and Vi were different. The were part of the Borg."

"You and Leks killed Rona and Vi?"

"Old friends of yours? Vi sure didn't seem to think much of you. Very disrespectful. But oh could she fight. I understand what you meant about dancing' with Nikki. We danced. It was almost a shame it had to end." Spike recalls the mock fight when he pretended to kill Rona and Vi.

"You thought you could get away with this."

"I thought I should tie your mark before getting a soul and retiring. Now we're even. Two apiece."

"So you made a mistake. So did I. You can make it right. Go out there, get your soul and she'll take you back."

"Spikey, Spikey, Spikey. Don't you get it? She already loved me. I broke her trust. Unlike you, I didn't have anything to prove. Getting a soul changes nothing with Deb."

"It changes everything."

"No! She loved me, I blew it, end of story."

"It's not the end."

"I made a fool out of her! I proved her wrong. I proved Debbie wrong, and Buffy right. I'm not good. I'm a fighter. And a fighter needs opponents. Enemies. Things to kill. I can't settle down and be lovey-dubby. That's not me."

"Get a soul, and it will be."

"Don't you get it? I don't want to become good. I want Debbie. I had her, I lost her, and now all that's left is death. Question is, how many do I take with me? Bye dad. I'll be waiting for you in hell."

"You're not leaving this room."

"Why not? You gonna stop me?"

"You're not in much of a condition to resist."

"Oh dad. You should know me better than that by now." Dev turns around and opens the door. Spike grabs his left shoulder and spins him back around. Devlin smashes the bottom of the bottle on top of Spike's head. The bottle is filled with holy water, which burns Spike's scalp, face and eyes. "I always have a trick up my sleeve." Devlin throws Spike over the couch and makes his escape. A nearly blind Spike blunders outside just in time to hear Devlin tire's screech.


	60. The Slayers Strike Back

Spike vows to stop Devlin. Buffy learns something awful. Elektra and her demon army go up against Gretchen and her Slayer army, then decides to make a flanking attack in Chicago, where the odds look better.

"Is it permanent," Spike asks Fred about his blindness.

"I dunno," she responds. He's lying on a table at the Wolfram & Hart lab. Angel and Lorne stand nearby while Fred washes out Spike's eyes with saline solution. "The ocular cells should regenerate. How fast is anyone's guess. But the damage isn't that deep."

"Why didn't you warn me," Spike asks Lorne. "What good is a seer if he can't help you keep seeing? Careful Spike. There's a nasty surprise in the bottle.' That's all it would've taken."

"I'm not that kind of seer."

"But you saw something. Something that made you run."

"You saw his future," Angel asks.

"I saw him on a funeral pyre, lying on a pile of burning Slayers."

"That can't be good," Fred points out.

"The good news is he doesn't have long. The bad news is he's taking a lot of important people with him."

"He's not that strong," Angel asserts. "What you're taking about is so far beyond his abilities - "

"Just because people die because of him doesn't mean he has to kill them personally. We're talking about a multiplier effect. The boy's a mogul, except his weekend gross is counted in blood. We're talking Harvey Weinstein, only not as demonic."

"In non-Hollywood-speak, please."

"Kids a producer, Angel-kins. Producers bring together talent. Think Tarantino and Travolta. Johnny's career's in the toilet. Then he meets Quentin, and big things started happening. Or getting Gus and Robin on Good Will Hunting.' It's all apart finding the right talent."

"I have plaint-clothes commandos at the airport. The police are looking for his car. And hell, even if he does escape, he'll run right into Buffy. I don't see the problem."

"Cuz you don't know Dev," Spike insists. "He can hit her and she can't hit back. Ow!"

"Sorry," Fred offers. "Maybe I'm just spreading the acid around. Course, trying the neutralize it on such tender tissue could make everything even worse."

"How does your science explain this, luv?"

"The priest's blessing seems to act as a catalyst, separating the hydrogen from the hydroxide, which releases energy and causes quite a sting. 'Specially when the unstable hydrogen reacts with the surrounding organic matter."

"I have to stop him."

"You can't even see," Angel points out.

"I know where he'll go. I can sense him. You said I could become roving good guy."

"You've always been free to leave. You've always been welcome to leave." Fred scowls.

"I need the jet. I need wut he's got."

"You want me to waste company resources on your little personal quest? We're already over budget for the quarter."

"Bloody tool. Wut happened to serving good?"

"The last time you went out on your own, you came back with your arms in a plastic bag. And how do you think the Slayers will treat you? Remember, you're a vampire."

"It seems to me that what Spike is pleading for is a chance for you to spend someone else's money to send him thousands of miles away," Wesley argues. "As for his safety, when was that a concern of yours?" Angel ponders this for a few seconds.

"I think I can have the jet ready in two hours. Hopefully you won't be blind by the time you land." Spike's glad to get his way, but doesn't approve of the reasoning used to get it.

"I think we've done everything we can to help him," Wes says to Fred, eager to get back home.

"How d'ya know where he'll be," Fred asks. "Ah mean, he could go anywhere."

"Not Devlin." Fred takes Spike's hand and helps him walk.

"I'll drive you to the airport."

"I'm sure we can find a driver," Wes counters, irked by the attention his girlfriend is lavishing upon poor blinded Spike.

"I'll need an allowance," Spike says to Angel before he departs. "And a car."

"Would you like a masseuse and a pilates instructor with that," he asks back sarcastically.

"Remember, it's not your money," Wes reminds Angel.

"How's five thousand?"

"Plus a car. And a hotel room." Spike hears Angel leave in disgust. "Hey! Buffy hears Dev got loose, and we'll both be in for it."

Unfortunately for Spike, Devlin was travelling by car, and was unsure where he was headed. Should he attack Cleveland again, or search for a new target? And how was he to link up again with Elektra? Seeking her out in Cleveland might be risky. He didn't see the point in going where the Slayers would expect an attack.

Elektra wasn't too worried. By Monday night, she had dozens of demons on her side. A pair of Slayers couldn't handle the crowd that was partying at a club she had ostentatiously commandeered. Dev would consider such recklessness foolish. But Leks was like Spike in that she liked it best when her back was against the wall and she had to escape by the skin of her teeth.

In that sense, Robin gave her exactly what she wanted. The fleeing humans quickly spread word of the demon infestation, and within an hour he was on the scene with six Slayers. "This has to be a trap," Wood argues. "They can't be this stupid."

"Yes they can," Gretchen counters. "Didn't Buffy teach you anything? If your so worried, we could just torch the place." Wood gasps at the antisocial suggestion.

"Because that could get all of us in some serious trouble. Didn't Buffy teach you anything?"

"Can we go in," a Slayer impatiently asks, eager to avenge Rona and Vi.

"Yeah. Time to slice and dice," another adds.

"They don't even have a single guard outside," Wood observes.

"I would surmise that recent circumstances have made them overconfident," Gretchen replies, referring to the Slayer fatalities in a way the girls would not catch. "Your town. Your call."

"Careful not to hurt any humans," he says.

"Does that mean we can go?"

"I guess." The girls smile and split into three pairs. One climbs the roof. One goes to the front door and one to the back. When the girls on the roof signal they are ready, Wood and Gretch load their weapons and nod to the girls at the front and the back. Everyone barges in unnoticed. The music is too loud and the crowd too rowdy. Leks is up in the balcony, dancing and singing to Nas's "If I Ruled The World," flirting with some new male arrivals who are desperate to get with the stunning Slayer killer. She's trying to talk up Kat to one of the guys in order to help her new friend. It doesn't take long for Leks to notice the screams from downstairs.

"Two Slayers." Then more come in through the roof near her.

"Four," Kat adds nervously. They here more screams downstairs.

"Six. Fuck!" The girls slash with their swords and axes, decimating the inebriated horde while easily kicking away any who try to counterattack. "Aww! He was hot," she whines as a Slayer on the balcony stakes one of those new male arrivals. As the Slayers close in, the vampires panic. Some, frozen with fear, barely put up a defense. Others leap over the railing, only to fall when they hit the ground, or knock over other demons on impact.

"What do we do," a panicked Kat asks.

"You got my back?"

"Sure. But right now they're in front." The Slayer are less than twenty feet away. Everything upstairs is too chaotic, so Leks must make a tactical retreat. As she scans the floor downstairs, she remembers what Dev told her about attacking the Watcher of a distracted Slayer, like he did in South Africa. She climbs up on the balcony and leaps off, doing a double flip before landing near Wood, who's battling a demon. Gretchen, who's already dusted one vamp, is reloading. She catches sight of the flying girl out of the corner of her eye.

"Robin," she screams. Leks turns and kicks the crossbow out of her hands as Gretchen squeezes the trigger. The arrow flies across the room and lands in the neck of a demon hiding behind an overturned table in the corner. Gretch pulls out a cross in her left hand. Elektra growls, kicks the cross away, gets behind Gretchen and puts her fangs to the left side of the woman's neck. Wood tries to stake Elektra in the back, but Kat leaps into him and pins Robin to the ground. He pushes her off him, but gets put in a full nelson by one of Kat's vampire friends.

"STOP," Elektra screams. The music has been off ever since the demon dj bolted with his records after the Slayers stormed in, so she can be heard. Two Slayers see Gretchen and Robin in trouble, and tell the other Slayers to cool it. A tense standoff ensues, as the Slayers worry about the demons jumping them from behind while they come to help their Watchers. "Now that I have your attention," Leks calmly continues, "Please leave, or the lady gets it." Gretchen looks ashamed at having been turned into a helpless hostage. "Ya know, for an older lady, you ain't bad," Leks adds, stroking Gretchen's hair with her right hand while pinning Gretchen's right arm behind her back. "And I don't even swing that way."

"And the black guy's pretty hot, too," Kat adds, rubbing Wood's bald head. He kicks her in the stomach.

"Don't make me get rough," the vampire holding Robin tells him.

"We'll leave when you leave - town," Robin replies defiantly.

"You first," Elektra childishly responds. "I believe I'm holding all the cards, on account of me holding your lady friend." She puts her right hand under Gretchen's blouse and tickles her stomach. "Ain't that right, honey?"

"Then why are all your peeps gettin' the hell out," a Slayer asks. Elektra looks around and realizes the demons have used the respite to high-tail it on out of there. This leaves her, Kat and the male vampire with six Slayers and no backup.

"You, you, you and you, out," Elektra commands, trying to maintain control. "Then I give her to you, he gives Principal Wood to you over there, and we walk out. Or else the two normals die."

"Then you die," a Slayer threatens.

"Then we all have something to gain by following my directions, don't we?"

"Go ahead," Robin softly orders. "We'll get her later." He knows Elektra is responsible for Rona's and Vi's deaths. He knows he's had several previous chances to kill her. It's infuriating to let her slip away yet again, in part because of his inability to defend himself. Four Slayers slowly exit through the front door. One of them punts a severed demon's head in Elektra's direction as a warning. She lets go of Gretchen, who turns around and stares Leks down, along with one Slayer. Elektra returns to her human face and smiles. "Funny how if a few things were different, I could be her, and she could be me," Leks muses to Gretchen, pointing out how she's just a teenage girl like the Slayers. Her ability to mimic innocence is unnerving to Gretchen. The male vampire pushes Wood towards the other Slayer, and they have a macho stand-down. Robin is sure that he could take this guy in a one-on-one fight, and the vampire is sure he could kill the Watcher.

"I thought you dudes were English," the vampire offers. "They got like an affirmative action program or something," he jokes. Leks laughs. That's the sort of smartass thing her brother would say. The three vampires back their way out the back door.

"This isn't even CLOSE to being over," Elektra, the last one to leave, vows. The pair of Slayers and Watchers remain inside for a few seconds, looking at the massive carnage they've wreaked after bursting in like a hurricane.

"I think we made our point," a Slayer boasts. She's sure the demons will turn tail and run after such a one-sided massacre. The four of them join the other Slayers outside. They hear tires screech as the demons try to drive away, using both sides of the road and running red lights to escape the fearsome Slayers.

"Punks," a Slayer adds.

"Now what," another asks.

"We go home. I'll call Rupert and see if he wants a follow-up attack," Gretchen reports. Robin's a little flustered to see her usurp his position as head Watcher on the Hellmouth so quickly.

"Real fucking brave," Elektra says to the three male vampires who made a premature exit. "I thought we had each others' backs. All I did was save your lives and kill the uber-Slayers. A little fucking gratitude isn't too much to ask for. At least one of you was brave." She embraces Kat and kisses her on the lips, surprising the vampire. "Great work in there, sweetie."

"No sweat," she responds, slowly and nervously disentangling herself from her hero Elektra. "I had help." She turns to the new vampire, cuts his right cheek with her left fang, licks the blood and puts her right hand on his butt. He smiles.

"There are rewards for bravery," Elektra tells the three male vampires who bolted.

"I blew it," Gretchen tells Robin once they're home and upstairs. The excited Slayers are downstairs watching television and sharing battle tales.

"The girls don't seem to see it that way."

"I let them escape."

"I wasn't much help either."

"Next time they fight alone."

"Sure. If that's what Rupert wants." Gretchen can tell he's mildly ticked.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. I just don't like being overruled."

"Overruled?"

"If we headed straight to the Hellmouth, we could have finished them off. But you said come back here. So that's what they did."

"Why risk it? Who knows what they've got back there. I think we've learned not to walk into traps by now."

"What trap? They were completely disorganized! But I'm sure Rupert will see it your way."

"Excuse me?"

"I haven't seen him in months. You're much closer to him." This nearly makes Gretchen explode.

"You think I was put in charge because I'm sleeping with him?"

"I meant because you see him every day. But now that you mention it — did you say you were in charge?"

"I merely suggested we regroup before making out next move."

"And thereby give the demons a chance to escape." They hear a knock at the door.

"Is everything okay," Olivia asks. Wood opens the door.

"Yeah. We're just discussing strategy."

"We really kicked ass tonight."

"Yeah, we did."

"Are we going out again?"

"Maybe. We're gonna call Rupert and Buffy and see what they want. Go down and tell the others we'll be down in a bit." Olivia heads down the stairs. Gretchen and Robin feel like parents embarrassed by fighting in front of the children.

"I thought you said this town was ours," an angry demon asks back at the Hellmouth, where the locals are getting restless.

"Since when did I say there were only two Slayers in the world," she responds.

"You set us up!"

"Let's try to relax. Take a breath. Those of you that breathe."

"How come all you vamps are okay?" The vampires are huddled on a small mound near Elektra.

"We're not," one of them shouts. "We suffered too."

"You set us up!"

"How come the Slayers let you go?"

"You set us up!"

"People! And non-people," Leks shouts. "Let's calm down and assess the situation."

"Kill 'em all!"

"Yes. That's the spirit," she quips.

"The Slayers AND the vampires!" An unnerving number of demons cheer.

"Don't get speciesist. This is just what they want. We have to stick together."

"You vampires sure stick together!"

"I didn't force anyone to come here. We chose this fight because the Slayers left us with no choice. Fight or die."

"And WE seem to be the ones dying!"

"Listen up! To bring all these Slayers here, they had to take them from other places. Which means other towns are wide open. Chicago. Detroit. Philadelphia. We hit them, they spread out the Slayers, we defeat them one at a time. If we leave now, we can make it to Chicago before sunrise. We fight the Slayers when and where we want to. We force them to play our game. They have to defend the innocent. That's their weakness! Let's kill so many innocents, they won't know where to go!" The vampires and a few demons start cheering. Then others join in. Elektra smiles, relieved that she's still in control. For now.

"At least twenty demons. Maybe half a dozen vampires," Wood reports to Giles.

"Not bad for one minutes' work," Giles replies.

"She went straight for us," Gretchen reminds them.

"I'll say this: she knows when she's overmatched," Buffy says with a sigh. She's on speaker phone at her office. But her confident attitude conceals worry. What Elektra did reminds her of how she went for Dru when Spike attacked the vampire worshippers. It's unnerving to find a vampire who can be that smart.

"I don't know if we should go along next time."

"I'm sure Kelly can lead," Buffy responds.

"Is she in charge," Wood asks.

"Of the other Slayers," Giles responds.

"But of course you're in charge of her," Buffy jumps in. "It is your town." Buffy shared Wood's worry about Gretchen's expanding authority.

"We're all colleagues," Giles nervously offers. "We work by consensus."

"Then the consensus here is send them out for another sweep, see what they can pick up," Gretchen adds.

"Sounds productive," Giles responds.

"The quicker slayed the better," Buffy states before pressing the button to hang up. There's a knock at her door. "It's unlocked. Xander, what are you doing here so late?" It's half past four in Rome.

"What am I doing here," he asks rhetorically, commenting on her presence.

"Yes, what are you doing here?"

"I thought I should be available with sock puppets an Snoopy dances in case any of the Slayerettes had trouble sleeping."

"How are they?"

"Not a care in the world."

"They don't know?"

"They do. But they never met them. So it doesn't mean anything. They're still feeling all new and invincible."

"They were the last. Out of everyone, they were the last I thought - "

"Would be first."

"First? You thought there would be a first after the First?"

"It crossed my mind. Not everyone has your abilities. But they knew what they were getting into," he adds defensively. "You told them they could go home. I even offered to drive them in our magic bus."

"They were home."

"So they said."

"We're doing the right thing."

"You don't have to tell me. Hey, I'm still one hundred-percent on board."

"Of course. We all are. We are, right," she asks suspiciously.

"Giles has a look in his eye. Ever since yesterday. He's having trouble interacting with them. Like he's afraid of getting too close."

"I think I should tell you that Dawn called me."

"This late?"

"She's been doing research and, well, I don't know how to say this - "

"Glory's alive? The Master's back? Adam got a new power source and sewed Caleb back together?"

"Yeah. I wish it was something we've seen before."

"What then?"

"They made a video. The vampires made a video of Rona and Vi fighting . . . and dying." Now Buffy's alarmed. "It's all over the net. Vampires are going bananas. Not to mention all the human sickos who like watching a real live death in streaming video." It takes Buffy a few seconds to respond. Her gut reaction is that this is an affront to the honor of Slayers everywhere. She stands up and gazes out at the darkened courtyard.

"Do you know what Matilda remembers about being shot? Not the pain of a broken ankle and shattered kneecap. The laughter. Vampires were laughing. At Slayers. I can't allow that. These vampires will die, if I have to do it myself. They're gong to stop laughing, and start screaming."

Devlin, sleeping in the back seat of his car, is awakened by his cell phone. "Hello?"

"Did I wake you up," Harmony asks.

"I think so. Unless I'm already in Hell." He peers out his tinted window. "Nope. Nevada."

"Sidney's not answering. No one there is."

"I'd be shocked if they were," he responds with a wicked laugh, trying to enjoy the pain he's caused Harmony, since he has to practice at being evil once again.

"Are they out on a job?"

"Look, Harm, I wouldn't worry about them if I were you."

"Worried? Why should I be worried?"

"You should be celebrating."

"Okay, they were good, but not that good. Did they tell you what we did?"

"Enough of your little rabbit games, babe. The world's changing. Conquer or die. That's what's on every vampire's lips. Conquer or die." Devlin seemed far less cogent that usual.

"I'm just gonna let you get back to sleep."

"You do that, darling." He hangs up and disconnects his battery so he won't be disturbed again.

"To everything, turn, turn, turn. There is a season, turn, turn, turn. A time to kill, a time to mourn. A time for love, a time for hate. A time for peace, I swear it is too late."

"Cowards," Kelly says as she surveys the empty wastelands around the Hellmouth. "Nothing but fucking cowards."

"On the plus side, I guess this means we're really, really scary," Veronica offers. Katie rushes over from the warehouse.

"I think I found their headquarters. They left tons of stuff behind. Including a couple of cool cds," she says, clutching them in her hands. "It's okay to steal from demons, right?"

"Guys, you're not gonna believe this," Jessica enthuses, stepping out of the cave where the vampires held up before Dev and Leks saved them. "Come on!" She points her flashlight inside. Marlena decides to take a peak.

"Dude, I gotta get me one of those!" The Slayers hear her voice echo, and rush over. All except for Kelly, who fears a trap. Or a big box full of dynamite, like the one that nearly killed her back in Sunnydale. She waits nervously as they drag something out. Then she smiles.

"Is that a flame-thrower?"

"Uh-oh," Ken says in the back seat while Elektra drives. He's in between Jorge and Matt, while Ricky sits up front between Leks and Kat.

"What," Jorge asks.

"Nothing."

"You forget something," Matt wonders.

"It doesn't matter."

"Damn right it doesn't matter," Elektra declares. "Because you don't matter. None of you do. That's why you're in back." Ricky smiles while he and Kat rub each other's legs and she nibbles on his right ear. The three guys in back decide to kill this new hero when they get the chance.

"Without us, there's no tape," Jorge reminds Leks. "And without that video, you're nothing."

"I saved your lives. I own you. I own all of you. Except for Ricky."

"No, you can own me too. If that's all right with you, Kat?"

"Sure. Whatever Leks wants."

"Whatever Leks wants," Elektra says to herself. "That sounds like a good slogan." She puts her right hand in Ricky's pants, gets him pleasantly worked up, then removes it. "Don't look so disappointed." He puts his left hand on her right thigh. "Don't push it." He removes his hand. "Be grateful for what you can get."

"Oh, I'm grateful. I'm completely grateful."

"Don't grovel either."

"Enough with the dominatrix routine, Leks," Kat pleads, fearing that if Elektra toys with her boy, his affections will stray.

"Relax Katty. I won't be in the mood for any kink until the next Slayer's dead."

"I thought you said there weren't any Slayers in Chicago," Matt notes. "Isn't that why we're going?"

"I don't know if there are any. I just know they're aren't six. These supergirls don't grow on trees. Well, they do. But most of 'em haven't been picked yet, if you get my drift. So we can feel safe. Especially with a demon mob by our side."

"The demons seemed restless," Kat reminds Leks. "I don't know which girl they wanna kill more: a Slayer, or you."

"Demons don't kill their own kind."

"You do," Ken recalls all too well.

"I'm not a demon."

"Say what?"

"We're better than them. Least we can be." She looks into the back seat and pets Ricky's chest with her right hand. "There are rewards for bravery." He looks at her and smiles. Leks slaps his face, sending his head in Kat's direction. "Sorry Katty. He's all yours now."

The city was a lot cleaner than he remembered. The subway cars were graffiti-free, for crying out loud. Everyone looked so serious and businesslike and dull. Perhaps now that he was good he could appreciate the lower crime rate and higher quality of life. But no. Too much had changed. The old abandoned buildings he hung out in were now expensive lofts. His scene was long dead. It was enough to make a vampire well into his second century feel old. Even worse, there was no sign of Devlin. Or of any Slayers. But surely there had to be some of both in a city so large.

It isn't until late in the afternoon that Elektra found the local vampires in Chicago. All five of them. They hide in the sewers on the South Side near the lake. Conditions are swampy. Leks jokes about these vampires becoming amphibious. But it's not somewhere a Slayer would want to fight. To top it off, the neighborhood above ground is fairly violent, event without demons roaming the streets. "Never knew Chicago had a jungle," Leks quips as she stands in a foot of water. "Shouldn't there be like swamp demons here?"

"All the demons left," a vampire reports. "They're the first to run when things get tough."

"Don't we know it," Jorge responds.

"Demons don't care because first the Slayers come for the vampires, and they aren't vampires," Elektra notes. "But sooner or later the Slayers will come for them, and who will be left to protect them? It's fucking genocide. Like in Lord of the Rings.' We have to fight together if we want to survive. But don't worry. I got demons backing me up."

"Where are they," Matt asks.

"They're around here. They left with us."

"Yeah, but did they come here? Where are we meeting them?" Elektra thinks about this.

"Fuck!" Like her father, sometimes she overlooks the details. "No matter. When was the last time a demon killed a Slayer? That's our job. And we got enough to kill a duo. Hell, I can take one down just by myself."

"Oh yeah. When?"

"Saturday. You haven't seen the video? It's on the freaking net."

"We don't get broadband down here," he jokes.

"She did," Kat maintains. "We all saw it. 'Cept for Ricky, cause he's new."

"Well, well, well," a vampire says, stepping up to Leks. "You're tougher than you look."

"One of us has to be." The other local vampires note the diss with laughs at their leader.

"Lucky for you, I don't hit girls."

"Then you won't be no good against Slayers."

"I meant vampire girls."

"Ooh. Chivalry. How quaint. Hope you don't have a problem with a girl who likes it on top." She pushes him away. "Down boy. We'll save the celebrations for after." She backs away from their new allies. From there she ran straight back to their hotel for a shower.

"Somebody's gotta clean those boys up," she says to Kat and Ricky — who are fooling around on the bed — when she emerges in a bathrobe with a towel around her head. "And that smell! Why must our kind always live in squalor? Even when we're not on the lamb!" She takes off her robe. "Look at me and I gouge your eyes out," she tells Ricky. "Count your blessings. You don't see any other vampires with girls round here." She puts on her jeans and t-shirt. "I need to go shopping before the big fight. Wanna come?"

"Cool," replies Ricky.

"I was talkin' to Katty. I need you to keep an eye on the others. Make sure they don't bolt. Besides, it's not like we'll be doing any eating."

"Why not," Kat whines. Elektra smiles.

"Gawd, you're just like I used to be. Don't worry. You'll have all the blood you can drink drawing the Slayers into my trap."

"You're late, boy," Leks says to the leader of the Chicago vamps outside a downtown club. She's wearing tight black leather pants, red Italian boots, a blue tank top with silver glitter, and a red leather jacket.

"The name's Hector, girl."

"Good to know." She grabs him as he tries to walk to the door. "Uh-uh. You gotta keep watch."

"And miss the feast? Naw." She drags him by his ear and then slams his head into a light pole. "Hey! What's your problem? I haven't had a good meal in weeks."

"We all have a job to do." She puts her hands to his chest and pushes his back into the pole. "And if everything goes well, it'll be all-you-can-eat around here."

"Get your hands off me and I can have it now."

"What's the matter? You don't like my hands on you?" He pulls Leks close and tries to kiss her. "Na-ah. I wanna keep you hungry for that Slayer's blood. I hear it makes a man wild. All night and all through the day wild." She snaps her jaw like Dru.

"With you?"

"It better be." She lets go and laughs. "No keep an eye out. You wouldn't believe how many good massacres are ruined by lousy scouting." Elektra enters the club and snaps her fingers. Nine vampires line up behind the bar. She walks past them and snaps again. The go to work. Screaming and panic ensues. "This is so much more fun than a bat signal," she jokes after draining her first victim.

Ten minutes later, Elektra's wiping the bar with the face of her second victim and looking bored. She's already taken all the money out of the register and the victims' wallets, as well as a few credit cards. She learned this from Devlin, though Dru and Spike frowned on such conduct, since a vampire shouldn't pay for anything."What's taking them so long. Is eleven bodies not enough?" Ricky and Kat are going at it under a table. Elektra picks up the table and hurls it into the wall. "Places people! Fun and games are over. Unless you wanna be Slayer bait."

"Aw come on Leks," Kat replies as she gets up. "We was just lying in wait."

"Behind the bar with with the boys," she orders. "You four on the floor under those booths. On your stomachs, now! Excuse me. Is that a pool cue?"

"Thought I could hit 'em wit it."

"Or they could stake you. No wooden weapons morons! She breaks a few beer bottles and passes them out." Once everyone's concealed, Elektra walks around the tavern, looking over the corpses, which she's placed for maximum effect. On the white wall in back underneath the television set, she's written "I'm back" in blood. She loves the silent anticipation before a big fight. It's so full of possibilities. Hector rushes in. "By the phone," she says, pointing to the back. "Wait for him to move," she tells his four pals hidden under the booths. "Catch," she adds, tossing him the cue ball. Elektra hops onto a table and leaps into a hole she made in the ceiling. Rosario and Tiffany enter. They haven't seen anything this bad since their first week on the job, before they whipped the town into shape.

"Someone wants to send a message," Tiffany says.

"I'm back," Rosario adds, reading the blood on the wall. "Then show your face."

"I've seen enough." This reminds her too much of the violence she grew up around. Tiffany turns to leave. Rosario grabs her arm.

"They're still here." They look around. "Oye oye! Ven aqui!" She holds out her arms. Hector starts snapping his fingers. The Slayers walk towards the noise, though they can't see who's making it. A vampire under a table grabs Tiffany's left leg and pulls her down. Tiffany screams. "Tiff," Rosario yells, looking down and to her left at Tiff. Ricky, Kat, Ken, Matt and Jorge leap over the bar and attack her. She turns to her right, knocks Kat down with a straight left kick, Ricky with a right roundhouse kick, stakes Ken and throws Matt into the wall. Jorge backs away. Two vampires try to get on top of Tiffany while she's down, and the other two attack Rosario, who floors them both with a double flip kick. Tiff grips both vampires by their necks, keeping them from biting her, though one stabs her stomach with a broken beer bottle. Rosa steps forward and leans down to stake one vampire, but gets hit in the forehead by a cue ball thrown by Hector. He grabs a fire extinguisher and rushes forward, nailing Rosa twice in the face. She responds with a left jab and a right kick. The vampires on top of Tiff stand up, fearful of being staked in the back by Rosa. This allows Tiffany to stand up. Rosa does a left reverse kick to Matt from attacking from behind without even turning around. The goats from last night want to impress Elektra. Rosa throws a table at Ricky and Kat, who try attacking her from the right. Jorge holds back once again, not wanting to end up like Kenny. All the while, Elektra looks down and sizes up her opponents, waiting for the right moment.

The other vampires think that moment has long past. Tiffany climbs up on a table, fending off her four attackers. When one jumps up after her, she tackles him to the ground and stakes him, then flips over and stakes a vampire who tries to get on top of her. Rosario gets hit in the back with a chair courtesy of Jorge, but she resourcefully picks up a broken chair leg and tosses at Matt, dusting him and convincing Kat and Ricky to back off. Tiffany prepares to finish off her two remaining opponents while Hector goes after Rosario once again. They trade punches before she kicks him to the ground. When she steps forward and prepares to slay him. Elektra comes down out of the ceiling, landing behind her. The Slayer turns around just in time to be hit in the face by a right hook kick. "Remember me," she asks. A few weeks earlier, Leks had fought both of them to a standstill while her friend Regan stabbed Rosa in the stomach.

Rosario kicks Hector in the chest with her right foot and focuses on Elektra. Leks blocks two of her kicks, and Rosa ducks one of hers. After Leks ducks a left cross, Hector grabs Rosario from behind and bites the left side of her neck. She cries out in pain. Tiffany turns to help, but is attacked by Kat, Ricky and Jorge. Surrounded by five opponents, she is unable to get involved. Elektra enjoys the sight of a Slayer getting bitten. But after three terrifying seconds, Rosario hits Hector's face with the back of her head and throws him down in front of her. Leks leaps over Hector and sends Rosario into the pool table with a midair right kick. "Tiff," she yells. Tiffany jumps up to join her.

"Are you hurt?"

"What?" Rosario's still in shock. Five vampires surround them. Tiffany leaps at one isolated vampire while Kat and Ricky climb on the table to attack Rosario. They are both sent flying. Meanwhile, Tiffany knocks her opponent onto a booth table and stakes him before his friend can come to his aid. Rosario then leaps off the table, joins Tiffany, and they make a run for the door. Elektra and Hector try to cut them off. Tiffany, who has several inches on Leks. blocks a right hook kick and sends her down with a swift and powerful left cross. Hector gets kicked in the groin by the Slayer he bit and put on his back by a right uppercut. The Slayers flee as Elektra stands up.

"Come on," she yells to the other five vampires, who feel defeated after losing half their manpower. "She's weak! We can finish them off!" Hector, emboldened by the Slayer blood, takes up Elektra's challenge and joins her in pursuit.

NEXT: Elektra starts to seriously worry Giles. Spike arrives in New York ahead of Devlin and goes to work. Wood gets to try out the flame thrower against the Hellmouth demons, who appear to be on the run. Meanwhile, Devlin arrives in New York City and prepares to outsmart Spike, while Dru sends Elektra in search of her brother. Also, Angel tries to contact the devastated Debbie while Harmony learns the fate of her new friends.


	61. Follow the trail of blood home

The Slayers are shocked to see Elektra and Hector pursuing them. Rosario has been bitten, and Tiffany has a stab wound in her stomach, so neither is in great condition for fighting. They leap on the back of a bus at the intersection. Elektra races towards them, gaining ground extremely quickly even though the bus is going thirty miles an hour. The Slayers climb onto the roof. Elektra scales the bus and joins them. "Nobody runs away from me," Elektra says. The two Slayers still think they can take one vampire, and stand to fight when the bus halts at a red light. Leks is forced into a corner, but leaps over the Slayers towards the center. Pedestrians take note of this bizarre scene. Hector climbs on the stationary vehicle, attacking the Slayers from behind. The Slayers decide to leap off the bus and escape on foot. Just after they jump, the bus takes off. Hector falls to the ground. Elektra jumps, grabs a light pole, spins around once and bounds after the girls, following the scent of their spilled blood.

Half a mile later, the exhausted Slayers are shocked to see Elektra standing sixty feet in front of them. "I thought Slayers were fast," she jokes. "And I didn't even have to turn on the afterburners to lap you losers." Tiff and Rosa had always been able to run down any vampire. They limp forward and attack instinctively. Elektra does a forward flip and lands behind them. When Tiffany turns, she gets hit with a right roundhouse kick that knocks her down. Rosario nails Leks with a right hook kick and grabs the vampire's left foot when she kicks back. Elektra does a back flip to get free. The Slayers contemplate resuming their retreat home, but realize Elektra will just catch up and decide to kill her while they have numbers. Leks jumps on the hood of a car when they attack. She knows she can wear the injured Slayers out. They stand and catch their breath.

"What's the matter," Tiffany asks. "Afraid?"

"Nah. Just patient. Ya know, my family's killed every black Slayer we've faced. Not that we're racist or nothing. Did you meet Rona before I took her out?" Neither Slayer even knew Rona was dead. "I wonder if you'll taste as sweet." Hector finally arrives. "About fucking time!"

"Which one do you want," he asks.

"I'll take the dark meat."

"Cool. I got a taste for the chica." Hector charges Rosario. Elektra leaps into the wall and bounds back, trying to kick Tiffany, who rolls out of the way. Rosa throws Hector to the ground and gets out her stake. Leks fakes a right cross and connects with a left jab to Tiffany's stomach wound. She winces and Elektra licks the blood off her knuckles.

"I think I got you babe," she says before landing a right hook kick to Tiff's stomach. The Slayer steps back and to her right towards Rosario. Elektra looks to her left and sees Hector on his back, grabbing the stake with both hands and struggling to keep it from piercing his heart. She rolls her eyes, grabs Rosario from behind and shoves her head through the driver's side window of a parked car. This sets off a piercing car alarm that incapacitates the vampires because of their sensitive ears. The Slayers capitalize on the respite and continue running home. "Why do I always have to save the guy?" Leks moans, knowing she had Tiffany on the ropes. They continue their chase. Elektra slows down and stays with Hector, since by now even she's tired and doesn't want to risk a Slayer double team. Hector can't keep up with the Slayers, and that poses a problem, since they could duck into any of these apartments buildings. Elektra gets twenty feet ahead of Hector. "Move your ass," she screams, turning around and running backwards faster than he can run forwards. This is your chance!" He speeds up, giving it everything he's got. The Slayers notice the vampires are closing, and burn their last reserves of energy staying out of reach. When Hector is within thirty feet and Leks within ten, they leap up the escape ladders and climb to the bedroom window of their fourth-floor apartment. Hector rushes over and prepares to jump after them, but Leks holds him back with her left hand as she watches them limp inside. "Play it cool, boy. Real cool." She kicks in the front door and stomps up the stairs loudly and slowly. When she and Hector get to the fourth floor, they can identify the Slayers' place by the smell of their blood. She pounds on the door.

"Ven aqui! Ven aqui, muchachas," Hector screams.

"We know where you live," Elektra reminds them. "You can't stay in there forever. One of these days, you'll step outside and someone's gonna bust a cap in your ass. Or just plain blow your brains out. You're helpless! Leave town, or die." Tiffany opens the door and points a loaded crossbow at Elektra. Her shirt is soaked in blood. Standing next to her is Rosario, who has a deep gash on her forehead thanks to Elektra. Hector races downstairs at the mere sight of the cross bow. The more courageous Elektra slowly backs up, puts her left hand in front of her chest and pulls a throwing star out of her pocket with her right hand. "You shoot, I shoot. Which one of us is more likely to die? You feeling lucky bitch?" They stand still and stare each other down for five seconds, Tiffany's trigger finger trembling, Elektra's fingers twitching, eager to put the star in the Slayer's neck. Tiff finally ends the tense standoff by slamming the door shut. "That's what I thought." Tiff falls to her knees from the pain of the wound. Rosario rushes for some bandages, but feels lightheaded due to the loss of blood.

Outside, the vampires are giddy. "Slayers out of commission, just like I promised," she tells Hector. He kisses her. She leaps on him and straddles his waist with her legs, squeezing him.

"I don't know if it's you or the Slayer blood."

"It's both." She licks his teeth and sucks his tongue to get a taste. He leans her against the front windshield of a parked car and gets on top, kissing her neck. She hurls him to the ground and stands up. "In public? I ain't that nasty." Except with Spike, but then again she'd do Spike anywhere, anytime.

"But baby."

"Don't baby me." She rushes to a main thoroughfare and he races after her.

"Aw come on, girl," he whines. "I'm ready to go."

"The Slayer blood will help you stay ready." A car stops at a red light. Leks breaks then window and pulls out of the driver, throwing her twenty feet onto the sidewalk. She gets in and unlocks the passenger door. Hector gets in, and they race off. "I didn't get that sweet hotel room so we could do it in some alley."

"You're incredible."

"I know." She grabs the back of his neck with her right hand and shoves his face into her lap. "Now go to town. Make momma happy." She smiles as she runs a read light and swerves around traffic.

"This is not good. Not good at all," Giles says as he paces in the library.

"Five dead vampires. No dead Slayers. What's not good about that," Buffy asks.

"When was the last time a vampire pursued you for over a mile?"

"So she's fast."

"And she's smart," Xander adds. "The girl knew to get the hell outta Dodge."

"Exactly," Giles agrees. "Fleeing from a more dangerous locale to a less dangerous one is high unusual."

"Sounds pretty obvious to me," Xander counters, supporting Buffy.

"Did the vampires ever flee Sunndydale and perpetrate a massacre in, I don't know, Lompoc?"

"No," Buffy recalls. "Now that you mention it, it is kinda surprising they kept banging their heads against the same Slayer brick wall."

"They carefully laid an ambush. And fought as a team. This is most disconcerting."

"I may have slept through most of biology, but isn't that called adaptation," Xander asks.

"Vampires don't adapt. They're demons. Adaptation is a human trait."

"Yeah but, they're like half human. Anyway, if someone was attacking you on all sides, wouldn't you band together?"

"The vampires tried their best, and they still got clobbered," Buffy points out. "That's good news in my book."

"If she's in Chicago, what's going on in Cleveland," Xander wonders.

Wood sits in the kitchen, listening to the police scanner. Gretchen comes in for a cup of coffee. "Still nothing?"

"Like it isn't even the Hellmouth."

"I suppose that's a good thing. If not for us, than for the greater Cleveland community."

"I know they're planning something. Are you keeping watch?"

"Olivia and Sue are outside. The girls are switching shifts at thirty minute intervals."

"I hope they're not too bored."

"They seem happy watching Fight Club'."

"Fight Club'? Isn't that more of a guy's movie?"

"I thought so. But they have a Brad Pitt thing."

"It's getting late. People are going home. What are they waiting for?" It wasn't like vampires to wait this long to feed on a weekday.

The demons congregate in a vacant lot at the bottom of the Hellmouth zone, six miles from the Slayers, and inaccessible by car. "The cowardly vampires ran," a tall brown demon with two long red horns and a red stump on his forehead tells the throng. "And I'm glad." They demons cheer. "They just got in the way!"

"Half-breeds!" More cheering.

"We are free. We can come and go as we please. The humans have places they must protect. Places where we can do them great harm. They are united. And now we are united!" This statement is greeted with predictable applause. "Tonight, we show these Slayers and their human masters who the Hellmouth belongs to."

Elektra bounces up and down on top of Hector, digging her nails into his chest. "You're the best. You're the best," he screams.

"Yes, yes, yes I am," she moans. Kat opens the door and enters with Ricky. She turns towards the wall and hangs up her coat.

"Sorry about ditching ya, Leks. We were too beat up. You forgive me, right?"

"Yes, yes, oh yes!" Kat sees what's going on.

"Sorry girlfriend. We'll head out again." Elektra looks to her right.

"Why? The more the merrier. There's two beds, and we can only use one." Ricky doesn't know how he feels about this. But Kat seems turned on by the idea.

"Look at those hips," she says to Leks and she takes off her shirt and rips off Ricky's. "How do you stay so thin?"

"Exercise," Elektra replies. Kat throws a pensive Ricky on the other bed. Hector also doesn't like the idea of doing it with another guy in the room. But his eyes are rolling into the back of his head, and he's in no position to argue with Elektra.

Spike enters a small underground room containing a transformer and three vampires feasting on one dead human. "Careful, a few feet to the left, and you're goo," he says. One of the two male vampires glares at him.

"Get out!"

"You don't know who I am." The woman stands up.

"I wouldn't mind getting to know." The man pushes her aside and gets in Spike's face. He's three inches taller.

"I said get out, blondie." Spike snaps his neck.

"When I'm good and bloody ready." The other male vampire stops feeding and appears concerned. The woman smiles and grabs Spike's lapels, reverting to her human face.

"You're psychotic. I like that." He grabs her neck. "Please, please! I'll do whatever you want. What-ev-er." She tries to turn a grimace into a smile, licks her lips and rubs her thigh against his groin. The other vampire takes advantage of the distraction and makes a run for it. Spike throws the woman back, grabs the man by his hair, spins him around and stakes him. The woman runs by Spike and heads down a tunnel. When he closes, she opens a vent and leaps on top of a subway car. He jumps down, grabbing the end of the last car. The woman thinks she's lost him, and decides to hang on until she's well away from the scene. Spike climbs up on top at the next stop and makes it to within one car of her when it starts up again. She looks back, and he goes down in between the cars where she can't see him. He gets back on top, knowing the noise of the speeding train will muffle his approach. She is startled when she feels someone grabbing her right ankle, and screams and tries to struggle. They fall onto a parallel track. "What is your problem," she asks before trying to push him onto the third rail. He throws her down but hangs onto her shirt so she back dangles inches above the power line.

"The name's Spike."

"Flash." Spike laughs and eventually pulls her back to her feet, but still can't stop laughing. "Hey! What's so funny?"

"The Flash?"

"Just flash. Cause I'm fast."

"Not fast enough."

"What do you want?"

"I need help."

"Oh really." She smiles and sidles up to him.

"Not that. Well, not yet, anyway. There's a boy I'm looking for named Devlin. Average height. Brown hair. Black trenchcoat."

"Vampire?"

"That too. He fancies himself a leader. Chances are you'll hear his pitch."

"And you want to stop him? Is this a power thing?"

"It's a life and death thing, luv. He wants me dead. I want him dead. You help me, I won't want you dead."

"You wanted my help, maybe you shouldn't have killed my friends." He pushes her down on her knees, grabs her hair and shoves her face close to the third rail.

"I do things my way."

"Okay, okay, okay. Please, please." He lets go.

"Yeah, yeah. The begging doesn't get my rocks off like it used to. Makes me kinda queasy now." She stands up.

"Haven't seen him."

"You will. You be his friend. Then you betray him."

"What's in it for me?" Spike goes bumpy and growls, then caresses her face. She runs her fingers through his hair. "You drive quite a bargain." Spike hands her a card and backs away from her. "You keep in touch, luv."

"I'll look forward to the touching, love," she replies with a smirk. Spike jumps on the side of the train that comes by heading in the other direction. She shakes her head. "Why are the gorgeous ones always insane?"

Robin's beeper goes off. "The school!"

"It's an inanimate object. It can't page you," Gretchen drolly points out.

"The alarm. Someone broke in."

"Maybe the vampires want to learn," she quips.

The demons decided to ransack the school. Since the principal runs it, they see the building as his property, and believe this will be a blow to his honor and compel him to fight. They break windows, bust desks, puts their fists through televisions, then get bored. "When the Slayers gonna show," a demon asks the leader.

"Any minute."

"And if they don't?"

"We take over and wait." He knows shutting down the school will get attention and cause Wood to lose face.

"I don't wanna wait." The leader rips his head off and shows it to some other impatient demons.

"Anyone else not want to wait?" They shake their heads.

Wood zooms into the parking lot with Gretchen riding shotgun the six Slayers piled in back. He sees a decapitated security guard. "It's gonna be hard to get a replacement," he quips, since the previous night watchman was killed by Elektra less than two weeks ago.

"I suppose it's rather pointless," Gretchen notes. "If you can't stop them, why even have somebody try?" He sees the broken windows and several breaches in the walls. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but vampires don't generally walk through walls."

"I think we're dealing with something more than vampires."

"You'd think the demons would know better after last night." Wood stops the car and everyone gets out. He opens the back and they arm up. He straps on the flamethrower. Gretchen flicks a lighter and ignites the end. "It looks good on you." The Slayers are impressed by the principal.

A demon lookout comes racing down the halls. "They're here! They're here! They're he-eere!"

"Form up and attack," the leader orders. The demons, who have spread out around the building, head back. A few impetuous ones race outside on their own.

"We can take them," Kelly brags.

"I think there's more," Gretchen cautions. The demons slowly emerge. Watchers and Slayers count their numbers and gradually become disenchanted.

"Okay, I stopped counting at forty," Jessica reports.

"We can take them," Robin assures the group.

"Easy to say when you're holding that," Gretchen responds. "If you don't mind, since I lack super powers or an incendiary device, I'm just going to climb onto the roof of your car and direct the battle from there.

"Stay back," he tells the Slayers, slowly walking towards the onrushing demon mob. None of the Slayers had worked with him before yesterday. Most hadn't even met him before then. But this gung-ho act convinced them he was a warrior. When the lead demon is ten feet away, Wood turns on the jets, immolating the monster. He sprays fire left and right, igniting more than a dozen demons.

"Stay away from the man," their leader yells. "Go for the girls!" Demons start moving left and right, although those in the center don't have time to escape the flames. Robin looks around and sprays more fire, finishing off the demons he's already igniting. The smell of burnt flesh fills the air. Eighteen of the enemy had been toasted.

The six Slayers form up as a body in an arc, with Kelly at the apex, ready for the attack. They repel and kill the first wave with their swords, fists and feet. The second wave forces them back, but they hold firm. Other demons try to work around their flanks and surround the girls. Wood turns around. "Duck," he yells. The girls hit the ground as he presses the trigger again, spraying the demons around the Slayers with flame and making them run away.

"Take him out," the leader tells three demons. "Get him from behind!" The trio spreads out and slowly approaches Robin from all directions. He backs up, away from the Slayers. Some of the flaming demons try suicide attacks on the Slayers when they get up. They slice and dice, with Jessica, Kelly and Veronica getting minor burns on their forearms. The lead demon advances with five of his larger compatriots.

"Be careful," Gretchen yells from atop the SUV. "They've probably saved the best for last." Wood is surround by the three demons, who stay out of flamethrower range, so he can't help. The leader knocks Kelly down. She kicks him in the left knee before getting up, ducks a right swat and punches him four times in the stomach. He grabs her throat with his left hand and lifts the girl off the ground. She kicks him in the groin. He lets go and backs up.

"Good. You have those," she jokes. To her left, Susan is in trouble. She's been knocked down, scratched across her back, and is being kick in the ribs. Kelly hits the demon in the chest with a leaping left hook kick. Then her opponent nails the distracted Slayer with a left hook, putting Kelly on the ground. He walks past the Slayer towards the car and Gretchen. He lets out a terrifying war cry. The trio surrounding Wood retreat and race to the other side of the car.

"Moi," Gretchen asks the leader as she looks down. "I'm flattered." Kelly's helping out Olivia, and has forgotten about her first opponent. After the two of them stab the demon multiple times and kill him, she turns round and sees Gretchen in trouble.

"Gretch," she yells. Gretchen leaps off the car's hood as her attacker jumps on top.

"Not again," Wood says, recalling when Elektra did that last week. Gretchen rolls when her feet hit the ground. She cuts off a demon's left foot with the sword in her right hand and puts the ax in her left hand through a demon's chest. Susan chops off that demon's head. Kelly jumps on the back of the demon with the amputated foot, brings him to the ground and snaps his neck. The other demons also run over to the other side of the car, and are joined by the other Slayers. The leader sees Wood rushing towards him and puts his left hand through the front windshield. He then leaps off the car, clotheslines Kelly with his left arm, jabs the claws on his left hand through Susan's stomach, gets an ax in the back from Gretchen and a sword through the chest from Katie. He retreats, along with the other three remaining demons, when they see Wood rushing over.

"We need to get Susan to the hospital," Gretchen tells Wood.

Tiffany walks over to the couch and gingerly sits down to Rosario's left to watch television. She has a large bandage on her stomach, which is held in place by a roll of gauze around her midsection. Rosario has a bandage on her neck and above her right eye. "You okay? Maybe we should take you to a doctor."

"Take ME? You're the one who got stabbed."

"Yeah, but you lost a lot of blood."

"I'll be fine tomorrow."

"Maybe we should take tomorrow off."

"Well, if you're not gonna be ready."

"I don't know if I'm gonna be ready, period."

"What?"

"Don't tell me you weren't freaked by getting bit."

"Sure. It was scary. But it stopped."

"Were you afraid of dying?"

"Not really. I just thought that it hurt. I didn't have time to think about death."

"What about after?"

"I knew we'd make it. I had you by my side."

"See, that's the thing. I don't know if I want to go back out there."

"Que?"

"We've saved tons of lives. Cleaned up this town. But when do we get a break? How much longer do we have to continue risking our lives?"

"That's the injury talking."

"I chose to do this. And I can choose not to. I don't owe Buffy my life."

"It's not Buffy we're fighting for. It's all the people in this city who can't defend themselves."

"No offense, but I've already given them enough."

"We haven't even done this for a year."

"You mean that's when our tour of duty ends?"

"I don't know. Like you said, we can always stop. But why should we?"

"So we can walk away while we still can walk away. I know it's selfish. But we've done our part. I can move back home, keep the neighborhood safe. At least from the demons. Not much I can do about the gangbangers."

"You heard Buffy. She got stabbed too."

"And she died. Twice. But the rest of us, we only get to die once. Like Rona and Vi. And they were Veterans! They were stronger and better trained than anyone. If it can happen to them, - "

"By that logic everyone should quit. What good would that do?"

"We've done a helluva lot more than most. I didn't say I was stopping. I just wanna dial it back a bit."

"You saw what they did. You saw all those bodies. If we dial it back, that happens every night."

"Maybe we can get a new girl to back us up. Three's safer than two."

"We'll bring better weapons next time. We'll find out where they live. We can beat them, Tiff."

"And then someone new comes along."

"Not if they're scared of us because of our rep. Vampires know this town means death, they'll go somewhere else."

"I thought they already had. Then this new girl shows up."

"Is it cause they know where we live? We can get a new place."

"Maybe it is the injury. Maybe I just need to sleep it off." She walks towards her room. "Or maybe I just need a break. Like you said, it's our right."

Spike sits down on his bed at the Plaza and flips through the channels. Nothing's on. He turns the tv off and takes out the picture of Buffy he keeps in his jacket pocket. If she ever learned about Devlin, that would ruin everything. He worst fear is she'd get to him before he did and use his gun. Unlike other vampires, Dev could aim.

Devlin sits in the back of an Indianapolis Starbucks at half past five Wednesday morning, uploading his latest post onto the web. The sun was coming up, and he needed to find a place to sleep better than his back seat. Or he could get to Cleveland in under three hours and reunite with Elektra. The other option was forgoing sleep and making it to New York by that night. He knew Spike would be there. But if he avoided Spike and went to Cleveland, his sire would undoubtedly follow him there. Then he'd have to fight Spike and the Slayers at the same time. Better to deal with them separately. He waited for a frazzled looking man who probably had been up the whole night leave the cafe. Dev followed him out, bit him by the man's car, and drank his blood along with his caffeine buzz. He knocked out three shocked onlookers, got in his car and raced out of town. Spike and New York were waiting.

"Thirty demons," Buffy exults that morning to Xander, Giles and Dawn, all of whom are exhausted. "They killed thirty demons!

"Approximately," Giles responds. "But probably slightly fewer than that."

"Whatever. It's huge!"

"Susan was badly hurt. Jessica nearly lost her life. The girls were shaken."

"The girls kicked ass. We haven't had that many kills at once since Sunnydale. They've won! The vampires skedaddled. The demons were massacred. We've won."

"The vampires could still return. Meanwhile, we have two Slayers in Chicago temporarily out of commission."

"Try to look on the bright side for once. They've thrown everything they had at us and we threw it right back in their face."

"What if we puts Tiffany and Rosario in Cleveland. Pool our strength," Xander suggests. Giles appears to support this idea.

"And abondon Chicago," Buffy interjects. "We are not giving any city to the vampires. Especially one that big. Guys, we are on the brink of victory. Besides, they're holding the line just fine in Cleveland."

"Especially with that flame thrower," Xander adds.

"I don't think he should use that again," Dawn argues. "I've seen some things on tv about World War II where they said if the tank in back gets shot, he burns to death, and that's a horrible way to go. Then again, even if he doesn't have the flame thrower, they can still shoot and kill him."

"Dawn, go to school," Buffy orders.

"It's not like the demons aren't getting strapped."

"Dawn - "

"Fine." She mopes out of the room.

"Now what's the situation in New York,"


	62. Like the Apprentice, but with scalpings

"I corrupt both good and evil."

Spike and Dev bring the fight to each other in New York City while Elektra tries to maintain control in Cleveland. Meanwhile, Angel offers Debbie some unwanted help.

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Tuesday after school, Melanie, Danielle and Diego go over to the vampires' apartment to see why they haven't been answering their phones. They knock several times, getting no response. It would be very odd for the vampires to be out in the daytime. Diego uses the key Sidney gave him, and they enter. There are signs of a struggle, and three piles of dust on the living room floor. "No. No," Melanie gasps, putting her hand to her mouth.

"Who would do this," Diego asks. They stand in silence for a few seconds.

"Has anyone seen Deb," Danielle wonders.

That night, Angel decided to pay the rogue Slayer a visit. She's sitting on the floor, staring at the wall. Her cheeks are red from crying. Debbie looks through the peephole. "Oh no." She reluctantly opens the door. "Get off my property."

"Debbie, I want to help you."

"Get out!"

"It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself."

"Get Out!"

"Right now, I think you need someone to talk to." She punches him in the nose.

"Right now, I think you need to go back to LA."

"If you need anything, just call."

"Need something? From a vampire?" She laughs.

"Being a Slayer doesn't mean being alone." She steps onto the porch and kicks his chin with her right foot. Angel falls down on the grass.

"You are not part of my life. You can never be part of my life. Now go back to Spike and leave me alone."

"You're a good person."

"Really. What do you know about goodness? Or people? I'm going back inside for a crossbow and some holy water. And if you're not gone by the time I get back - "

"I'm your friend."

"Like hell!"

"I don't want anything from you. I just want to help." She slams the door.

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Spike answers his cell, phone, hoping it's Flash. "Where are you," Claire asks, disappointing him.

"In New York on business. Sorry I didn't call. It's been a little hectic."

"Sure. I mean, why bother to tell your girlfriend you're going all the way across the country?"

"I said I wus sorry."

"When are you getting back?"

"I don't know."

"This weekend?"

"I can't say. Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I have lives to save. I'll call you when I get home."

"Fine." She hangs up, disappointed.

Spike enters an abandoned town house in Washington Heights in northern Manhattan. Three white vampires are raping a ten year-old black girl. "Now that's just disgusting," Spike says, going bumpy. "Can't you at least wait until she's nubile?" Two of them turn around.

"What's your problem?"

"I have many. You're at the bottom of the list." He knocks the vampire down with a right hook and bodyslams his friend. Then he stakes in the back the vampire that's still assaulting the poor girl. The other two vampires run for the front door. Spike leaps forward, grabbing their necks and slamming their heads into the brick wall. He impales one vampire on a broken bannister and lands a few punches to the body of the remaining vamp. "I think this is the point where you beg."

"Fuck you!" Spike lands three left crosses to his face, knocking the vampire down on his face. He then slams the face through the hardwood floor. "Okay, okay! What do you want?" Spike picks the vampire up and lands a right jab to his nose. "What the hell was that for?"

"Cuz I felt like it. And cuz you're a disgrace to our kind." He looks at the girl, who's crying. "But that's not important. I'm searching for a vamp named Devlin."

"The Slayer scourge?"

"The wut?"

"He killed that Slayer. Stake through the heart! It's the coolest thing I ever saw online. Way better than Paris Hilton."

"Saw? Never mind. Where is he?"

"Is he in town? I have got to meet him. He's my new hero. A Slayer killer!"

"Wonderful. Find Devlin and betray him to me."

"Why? You got a hard on for Slayers?"

"Yes, but, no. Never mind." He knocks the vampire down with another punch. "The name's Spike. Wut's yours?"

"Chuckie." Spike laughs.

"Can't you people think of anything original?" He kicks Chuckie in the mouth. "I work for Wolfram & Hart. Have you heard?"

"Yeah! They're like a big consulting firm or whatever."

"Whatever. They can protect you. Give you money. Get you women. Adult women. And a nice place to live. Make it so you're no longer scraping the bottom of barrel."

"What do they have against a Slayer killer? Ain't he on our side?"

"OUR side?" He punches Chuckie again. "Do I look anything like you?" He grabs the man's hair and drags him along the floor.

"Sorry. I'm sorry! Dammit! What is your freakin problem?"

"Vampires who ask too many bloody questions. Do wut you're told, your life gets better. Don't do what you're told, and I kill you. Got it, Chuckie?"

"Roger that." Spike shoves his card into the vampire's bloody mouth and hurls him through the boarded-up bay window. Then he slowly approaches the girl. She screams. He returns to his human face.

"Don't worry. I'm not gonna hurt you." She shakes her head and cries.

"No, no, no," she softly says. Spike gently picks up the girl, who still keeps saying no. "It's over. You're safe now." She keeps saying no. "Stop that! Sorry. Didn't mean to get cross. The bad men are gone."

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"You are so fucking amazing," Hector says to Elektra as she gets out of bed late Wednesday afternoon.

"Tell me something I don't know."

"We're gonna kill the Slayers."

"Maybe. But first I'm going back to Cleveland."

"We're goin' to Cleveland?"

"No. I'm going to Cleveland," she replies as she puts her pants on.

"What? We're a team. We're great together. We're meant to be together." Leks laughs.

"Silly boy," she says, caressing his face. "You're cute." She kisses the tattoo on his left shoulder. "And sweet." She puts her right hand on top of his bald head, cuts his scalp with her fingernail and licks the blood. She can feel him tremble, and smirks with delight. "But I'm a very important vampire. Maybe the most important in all of America. And I have big responsibilities. By the way, I'm taking Justin with me."

"What? He's my homey. Whom I gonna fight the Slayers with?"

"Sire some minions. You'll be fine. And maybe after you kill the enemy, we'll have a day together that will make today look like recess. Bye Hector. For now." He rushes over, taking Leks in her arms.

"I love you." He kisses her passionately. She pushes him onto the bed. "Don't give me that romantic crap. We're vampires."

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Angel arrives at the cafe, where Nina is talking to Oz. She sees him. "You're late."

"Sorry. Work."

"That's my cue." Oz gets up and leaves. Nina smiles at him.

"I hope you haven't been here too long."

"It's okay. Oz kept me company. So what was the emergency?"

"The usual."

"Saving some fair maiden?"

"Not as fair as you."

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Three male and two female vampires showed up at the subway train repair yard in the Bronx at five o'clock Thursday morning to hear Devlin speak. Included in the crowd are Flash and Chuckie. "Is this all that's left?"

"There are a few more in the outer boroughs I think," Vivian, a teenager with short blonde hair, replies.

"This city can comfortably support eighty vampires. Clearly you have Slayer problems."

"And vampire problems too," Chuckie reports. "This wacko named Spike killed my friends." Devlin smiles.

"Good. Not that your friends are dead, but that he's around. We can make this work for us. But first I have to get you people showers and a warm bed. You can't defeat Slayers if you're a mess." This doesn't appear to make sense to them. "Just trust me on that." The vampires are not terribly impressed and start to mutter to one another. "Hey! There were two Slayers in Cleveland who were stronger than the two in New York, and I killed them both! You're gonna be free by the end of the week. And don't worry about this Spike character. I handled him in LA, and I can handle him on the East coast. Now hotwire a car and follow me to our camp. By which I mean a seedy motel up the road. The sort of place that's out of a Slayer's range." He makes his way back to his car, where Flash approaches.

"You're Spike's, I mean, Spike's your sire."

"Yeah."

"Cool."

"How so?"

"I mean, he's strong, so you must be strong. I mean, you killed a Slayer."

"Two." He takes his cigarette out of his mouth with his left hand and runs his right hand through her hair. He'd slept with girls in the past who really wanted Spike and saw him as the next best thing, and he didn't mind. Also, there was something about this girl which excited him in a sinister way. "Your hair. It's like hers."

"Whose?"

"The last Slayer I killed." He smiles. At the motel, Dev hands out two room keys. "Viv, you stay with Chuckie." He smiles. "And you two get the other room."

"What about me," Flash asks.

"You're in my room, Vi."

"It's Flash."

"No, it's Vi." Devlin assumed Spike was staying in a hotel in midtown or downtown Manhattan. Since he can only sense Dev within a few miles, he should be out of range in the North Bronx. After the spirited role-playing, Devlin enjoys his first good day of sleep in close to a week. It's rare for him to sleep into the night.

"Morning," she jokes.

"What time is it?" He looks around for his clothes. She gets on top of him and takes off hers.

"You were growling in your sleep. Well, your stomach was."

"I'm okay."

"I know the feeling. It's been hard to get a good meal around here the past couple months."

"It was the same way in Cleveland. But I took care of that." She smiles and rubs his chest.

"Do you know how sexy that is? Killing a Slayer?" She kisses his neck. "I just can't keep off of you."

"Not now."

"Why not?"

"We have to strike."

"After." She stands up on the bed and holds the sheet behind her like a cape. "You gonna say no to this?" Devlin playfully rolls his eyes. Flash leaps on top of him.

"Grab the stake." She picks it up off the night table with her left hand.

"Are we doing this again," she complains.

"Do it, Slayer." She jabs the point against his chest, exciting Dev.

"You want me dead?"

"Yes."

"But I make you happy?"

"Yes. Yes." Once Devlin immerses himself in the sick fantasy, he forgets his troubles. Until he hears a thump on the door, which swings open. Dev looks to his left and sees Spike. He pushes Flash off the end of the bed and rolls off the right side of the bed, grabbing his gun off the floor. Spike leaps over the bed and is about to pounce on Devlin when he's hit in the chest at point blank range. Two more shots knock him to the other side of the bed. Flash covers herself with the bedsheet and screams as if this is a surprise. Spike takes out his stake and leaps towards Dev, who aims and fires. Spike lands on top and goes for the kill. His son holds him off with both hands, then notices the blood seeping out of Spike's left leg. He starts kicking the leg with his right foot. Spike groans in pain. Dev pushes him away, stands up and throws Spike back across the bed. When he stands up, he realizes the last bullet went through his left kneecap. Now he has a taste of how Dev made all those Slayers feel. Dev points the gun at Spike's head.

"You don't have the stones," Spike says, gritting his teeth in pain.

"Buffy won't want you if you're a vegetable. Say hello to eternal life as a retard. Then again, isn't that what Angel thinks you already are?"

"Wut's the matter, son? Afraid of a fair fight?"

"What the hell's going on," Flash asks, pretending to fear Spike, but at this point fearing Devlin since Spike failed to kill him. The other four vampires race in to Spike's left, having heard the gunshots.

"I'll take that as a yes," Spike says, answering his own question. He goes bumpy.

"Don't let his looks fool you," Dev tells them, standing there stark naked. "He's a good guy, and he's here to kill us." Chuckie, who's also in league with Spike, attacks and is surprised to get knocked down with a hard right. Spike tosses another male vampire through the wall behind him, shocking the guests in the next room, who were already terrorized by the gunshots. Though he's immobile, Spike can still take these four vamps.

"Actually, I'm here to kill HIM," he jokes, blocking the third guy's punch and putting him on the bed with a left hook. "I don't give a fig about you wankers." Viv kicks him in the chest. He grabs her throat, pulling her feet off the floor, and goes to stake her. She screams and puts her left hand up defensively, but the stake goes clear through and is headed for her heart when Dev fires his gun, putting a bullet through Spike's right hand, knocking the stake from his grip. It remains lodged most of the way through Viv's hand, while the bullet goes into her right shoulder.

"Nice try, Spike. Now be a good bloke and catch the number six train back to Manhattan." Dev uses this respite t finally put his pants on. Spike looks at the four vampires surrounding yet cowering from him. Flash makes a belated show of loyalty by charging Spike with her stake. He puts her on her back with a right jab and limps out of the room. The motel manager rushes in.

"What in God's name is going on here?" Dev walks over.

"In His name? Nothing." He pulls out his gun and fires a round into the poor fellow's forehead, splattering blood and brains on the wall behind him. "Like a Jackson Pollack painting," he jokes.

"So that's Spike," Flash says, still on the ground.

"Nice try. Poor try, actually." She stands up.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I should have known a sexy girl like you wouldn't really be interested in me."

"That is so not true."

"Get dressed. We're taking a walk."

He leads the group into a nearby vacant lot and gives Chuckie his camera. The other two male vampires hold Flash's arms. She's on her knees. "Action. Given the pressure we're under, it's natural to try to make a deal with the enemy to save your scalp." The hypocrisy is Dev did the same thing for five months by teaming up with a Slayer. "But it doesn't work. This is what we do to traitors." He takes out his knife and cuts off the vampire's scalp as she screams. Chuckie nervously films what could happen to him if Dev finds out he made a deal with Spike. When Devlin is done he shows the scalp to the camera, then motions for a close-up of the victim. "And cut. That's a wrap. Let her go." The vampires gleefully pull Flash to her feet and push her away. "Maybe you can catch up to Spike before your brain dries out." The five of them walk away. Dev grabs the camera.

"Can't believe she'd do that," Viv says. "I mean, even if he let her go, the Slayers would still take her down." Chuckie thinks about this.

"I guess this means we have to move again," he says.

"Doesn't change things for you, Chuckie." This makes him worried. "You three gentlemen will head south to Washington Square Park, where each of you will kill one person before decamping to the Waldord-Astoria for the night, where you will stay in my room." He hands Chuckie his key card.

"Wow, this is just like the Apprentice," another male vampire says. "Except, you know, with scalping instead of firing."

"Off you go. Stay clear of you-know-what. Here's some subway tokens." They leave, eager for a good meal.

"What about me," Viv asks.

"Right. Sorry about shooting you." She laughs. He reaches into her shoulder and pulls out the bullet. "Now about your hand." She's still got the stake stuck in it.

"I though if I pulled it out, it would just bleed more." He pulls it out and wraps his t-shirt around her wound.

"You don't find many vampires with defensive wounds. I need someone with your survival instincts."

"Is that all you need?"

"For now."

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Spike knew it wouldn't be easy to take Devlin down. He thought about strategy as he rode the subway back and ignored the stares at his bullet wound. Time was such a thing wouldn't have caused a scene on the tube in the Big Apple. Now if only he could find the Slayers who had so frightened the vampires.

Devlin took one of those frightened vampires to a nice hotel room in White Plains, putting him further away from his powerful enemies. Viv sits at the desk watching Dev kill Vi on his computer. She keeps rewinding to the part where he stakes her. "When can I use it," Dev asks while he sits on the bed watching the local news.

"Sorry. I just gotta see the other one and them I'm done. Ya know, you're really brave."

"Not really. Just opportunistic." He walks over, puts his right arm around her waist and kisses her left cheek and earlobe. She watches him kill Vi some more to get in the mood. Then she turns and kisses him. He looks into her blue eyes, feels her short blonde hair, and looks at her long neck. She's tall, leggy, almost perfect. He pushes her away. "Sorry. Wrong opportunity." He sits down at the computer.

"What is your problem?"

"Where do I start? You don't want to get caught in my orbit. I corrupt both good and evil. It doesn't matter."

"I've know jerks. My sire was one."

"It's amazing how many vampires hate theirs. Seem my experience was quite rare."

"You're not a jerk."

"I'm worse."

"You're hungry."

"You can get some food if you want. But bring it back to the room. The police find a body, the Slayers find us."

"Isn't that why you sent the others downtown? To keep them off our trail?"

"No. To bring them right to us. When the time is right."

"When's that?"

"Tomorrow night." She smiles.

"That's when we kill 'em?"

"No. That's when they kill some of us. But not you. You have to survive. Even if it means abandoning your current comrades. They don't matter. You do."

"Look, if you think they're competition, the truth is, I'm not even interested in them."

"You got me wrong, Vivian. Sure, you're pretty. Very pretty. But that's not what I want you for. You're going to kill a Slayer."

"What? I don't have powers. I'm - "

"Just a girl? So are they. That's the point. Older vampire guys prey on younger human girls. The Slayer exists to even the score. Those vamps are doomed to a dusty death. But you, you don't fit the profile. That's why Elektra won. Your kind throws the system out of whack. Evens the score, as it were, so that the Slayers fear us as much as we fear them. That's the way God planned it."

"I can't kill them. Not like she did. I don't have any moves."

"But you have this." She looks at what he pulled out of his pocket.

"A key?"

"To a locker in Penn Station that contains your secret weapon."

"Magic?"

"Better. Go there after the fight. Become empowered. Make a name for yourself." Vivian starts to feel like Devlin's partner. Like Elektra.

"But what about Spike? Who kills him?"

"He's already dead inside. Besides, Spike goes where I go. I leave town, he's no longer your problem."

"You're leaving me?" Suddenly he's no longer so partner-like. Dev stands, up, picks up a bottle of gin out of the ice bucket and takes a few gulps.

"We have to keep on the move in this new world. You too. After the Slayers are out of commission. They'll send more."

"I have to do it myself?"

"Maybe. You'll find a way. Vivian, it's in you."

"No it's not. I'm no hero."

"You don't have to be. No go kill something. I have work to catch up on." He gets back to finding out how things are going for his sister in Cleveland.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elektra returned to Cleveland Thursday night, almost seventy two hours after leaving. She found the situation in chaos. The demons were gone. The Slayers had laid waste to the Hellmouth. Wood had convinced the city to tear down the abandoned factories and implement their long-dormant redevelopment plan. A half-dozen Slayers during the night and a construction team during the day were taking apart the demons' habitat. Killing Rona and Vi had only made things worse by inciting a vicious counterattack. This was not how things were supposed to play out in the week after her triumph.

The demons had dispersed to subterranean hideouts. She tried to reorganize them, but they were in no mood to fight. Fortunately, vampires continued to arrive. Vampires who knew of Elektra's victory but not of the backlash. But defeat had taught her to be cautious. "When do we kill the Slayers," one of the new arrivals asks.

"What do you know about Slayer killing?"

"You promised us rivers of blood."

"Patience, dude. You're not getting any older. We gotta lull them back into a false sense of security." Yes, that was the line.

"You got nothing," a skeptical vampire declares. "We don't need you."

"Say that to my face!" He walks over with his gang. Elektra's few loyal followers step in the way. Elektra thinks she'll have to kill a few to establish order. She takes out a throwing star. A girl threatens Kat. Ricky sticks up for his girl. Soon enough a brawl is under way. But before Leks can participate, she is dragged away by two men. Her fighting friends don't notice the absence. Leks kicks and screams, trying to break free. Two more men grab her legs, and the four of them throw her in the trunk of a car. As they drive away, she bangs on the top, causing fist-sized dents.

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On Friday afternoon, Devlin drives Vivian in his tinted car into Manhattan. They surprise the men in Dev's suite, who can't believe he drove there in the daytime. He agrees to give them a ride, asks about their kills, then gets down to the business of obfuscation. "Tonight's plan is ambitious. But I believe in all of you. With just one other vampire, I killed two Slayers. With the four of you, I can kill two Slayers and a vampire. Excuse me. I mean we can. All of us together." He gets into character to convince the worthless rabble of their greatness. "Slayers win because they work together, and we don't. They don't believe we can cooperate. They don't believe we can trick them. And that is why we can. Two Slayers wiped demons off the Hellmouth. And two vampires, fighting as a team, slayed them. Two other Slayers turned the Big Apple in the Big Empty. And they will meet the same fate. By the time they realize they've been outfought, outsmarted, outplayed, it will be too late, and their blood will be pouring into your stomachs.

"Your work last night loaded the trap. They will show. As will Spike, even though he's lame. I spring the trap by doing some more killing. Spike will be the first one to stop me. The Slayers will see two vampires fighting over corpses, and attack us both. One of them kills him before he can convince her he's one of the good guys. I get to work on the other. That's when you four swing into action. Surround the Slayer who's just killed her last ally, her would-be savior, and take her down, while I have my way with the other. She's less experienced than the one I killed in Cleveland. It shouldn't be too hard. You four will encircle your target. Make her attack. She can only attack one of you at a time. When she does, the other three attack her. Whoever she turns to, you back off while the other three attack. She won't last long. The only thing you'll have to worry about is getting away before the cops show up." The vampires fondly recall when the police were their leading worry.

The ride around Manhattan was memorable for these vampires. They haven't seen it in the daytime since they were human. After the sun sets, he takes them back to the hotel, tells them to get pumped up and be on the scene by ten, which is when he shows up. As expected, Spike stands near the monumental arch, where he sired Dev. "Brings back memories." Spike turns to see Devlin under the arch, leaning against a wall. He's wearing his black tank top, but no trenchcoat, indicating he has nothing up his sleeve because he has no sleeves. Spike suspects a double trick.

"You think you can make me feel guilty?"

"I wanted to make you feel nostalgic. I do. Is this your first time back since you-know-what?"

"You know where I wus then."

"Mourning Buffy. I guess 9-11 didn't change much around the Hellmouth."

"It changed your life," Spike asks incredulously.

"Not as much as I'd hoped."

"You wanted to hunt down your old friends."

"They were never my friends."

"You were on the same side."

"Okay, I get it. There's irony. You're not the first to point that out. Elektra can't STOP reminding me." Spike worries she's around. Maybe that's the trick. "Have you gone there?"

"Why would I? Nothing's left."

"That's the point. Our home was down there. I lost my virginity down there. Now, it's a void. Sort of like our relationship: destroyed beyond repair."

"You can still fix that. You can still make things right."

"By getting a soul?"

"It's the only thing that will save you."

"Maybe I don't want to be saved. Maybe I can't go back. Maybe there's as much chance of me going good as there is of you and mom getting back together. You broke with your past. I've broken with mine."

"That's right. You gave up the killing and joined with Debbie. But you went back. Least you're trying to. That's the bloody problem, Dev." By the fountain, some people with guitars are singing "Country Roads, Take Me Home." Devlin starts laughing.

"I think we both can spot the problem." He points. Spike can't help but chuckle. "Killing them would be a public service."

"Problem is, you wouldn't stop with them." Dev's glad to know Spike can still joke a little about the deaths of innocents.

"So you'd let me?"

"Those two. The rest would learn their lesson."

"This is my problem with Giuliani. He made the city safe for douchebags. Used to be, only the strong survived."

"They still do. The trouble is, you're no longer the strongest." Dev slowly shakes his head at the threat.

"You're not gonna let the Slayers do your work for you?"

"I fight my own battles." There's several seconds of awkward silence. The sort that occurs before two old friends have to fight to the death.

"In front of all these people," Devlin asks.

"That's up to you, son."

"How bout a hug? One last time." He grabs Spike's jacket and rests his head against Spike's chest, who pushes him away.

"I'm sorry it has to end like this. We could've been a great team again. But you had to bollox things up."

"I am my father's son." Devlin grabs a woman. Spike punches him, saving her. Devlin scales the friezes on the front of the monument. Onlookers gasp. Dev leaps off when he gets twenty feet up and proceeds to run through traffic. Spike chases him, despite the bad knee. When Dev gets to a side-street, Spike hops on top of a car and jumps thirty feet through the air off his one good leg. He tackles his son. While Dev ran, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom filled with holy water. Now he tries to shove it in Spike's mouth. Spike knocks it away with his left hand, gets burned and goes bumpy. Dev wriggles out from under Spike, and they both stand up.

"That's funny. The Catholic Church opposes condoms," Devlin points out. "By all rights that shouldn't have worked." He is cornered between a staircase and the front of a townhouse.

"You'd really rather get yourself killed than convert?"

"To Catholicism? I don't think I can."

"You know wut I mean."

"Maybe I'll fight my way out." Dev tries a right roundhouse kick that Spike blocks. He also parries a left jab and right cross before landing an overhand left and a right hook, knocking Dev into the wall. He adds a left hook to the ribs and a right uppercut to the chin. Dev kicks Spike in his left knee. As Spike howls, Dev tries to make a run for it, but is tackled by Spike before he can take two steps. Spike stands up and throws Dev face-first into the staircase. Dev spins, blocks Spike's left hook and connects with a left cross. But Spike blocks a right hook and nails Dev with four consecutive right punches. Dev falls to his knees and punches Spike in the left knee. He cries out again in pain, and Dev leaps to his feet. But Spike grabs Dev's throat with his left hand, slams his back against the wall and reaches into his right pocket for a stake.


	63. The Gyre Turns

I may be twice dead, but I'm not suicidal."

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Jen, a tall, skinny sixteen year-old Chinese girl and Juanita, a petite fifteen year-old Dominican, had also been patrolling Washington Square Park. Brazen killings in a public space, like those of the previous night, had become rare, thanks to their combined efforts. Juanita noticed the two men running. Jen said to wait a few seconds, since it could be a feint to lead them away while other vampires attacked in the square. Juanita went a block north and saw two men fighting to the east. The Slayers race over and see a vampire beating on a human. Devlin had been very careful not to show his vampire face. It pays off. As Spike is about to snap his neck, Jen knocks him away from Dev with a right cross and puts him on the ground with a left hook.

"Oh bloody hell," Spike says, looking up at the two angry teenage girls.

"Thank you, Jesus," Devlin exults before running away.

"I'm Spike," he says as he stands up. He blocks Jen's right kick and lands a right cross to her face. But Juanita connects with a right hook kick and left roundhouse. "The vampire with a soul. You've heard of me, right?"

"Sorry," Jen responds, knocking him into the banister with a right kick to the body.

"I'm on your side, luv," he says to Juanita. She grabs his jacket and throws him head-first into a lamp pole.

"Don't you dare call me that, you bloodsucking fiend," Spike staggers into the middle of the narrow street. Jen blocks his path back to the square.

"You've got the wrong guy. People will die."

"If we let you go," Jen says. Juanita charges, and Spike backs up onto a staircase, getting five feet above the Slayers. A man comes out of the house.

"What do you want?" He sees Spike's monstrous face. "Ahh," he yells before pushing Spike down the stairs and rushing back inside. The Slayers surround him and kick him while he's down. Juanita pulls out her stake. Spike holds up his hands.

"You're making a huge bloody mistake."

Devlin uses this respite to excellent effect. He climbs up the sixty foot-high arch and look down at the multitude. "I am the lizard king! I can do anything!" The four vampires skulking in the southeast corner of the square look up and smile. Dev leaps down into the large fountain that dominates the center of the square. He grabs one of the singers and bites him. It's his first meal since leaving Debbie. The other singers scream and run away. He snaps the man's neck and runs down the guitarist, biting and draining him. For one hundred yards around Dev, pandemonium reigns. Jen hears the sounds of panic.

"Juanita! Something's happening!" They run back. Spike gets up. Despite his bad knee, he manages to pass them. He knows he has to get Dev and finish him off once and for all.

"Told you," he says as he races by. Devlin grabs a woman in her early thirties and bites her from behind, looking north towards his pursuers. Before he can finish her off, Spike rushes through the arch where he created Dev and past the fountain. He snaps the woman's neck, throws down her corpse, turns around and runs south. Spike keeps gaining, and is within five feet when they reach the street at the south of the square. Spike is hit in the left knee by a car which cannot stop in time. He goes down in immense pain. Jen and Juanita leap over his body. The driver steps out to see how the man he hit is doing. Spike waves him off and limps to the nearest subway entrance. At the end of the street, the four vampires jump Jen, tackling her. Juanita continues chasing Dev. Jen vaults to her feet and kicks and punches her four attackers. Chuckie lands a right hook to her face, but she ducks a punch from another male vampire, spins round and stakes the other guy. Vivian turns tail and runs east. Chuckie and the other vamp follow suit.

Devlin runs two blocks south and turns right. This is his old stomping ground. He knew it well even before becoming a vampire. When Juanita gets close, he climbs up a four-story building.

"I can wait all night," she says from down on the sidewalk.

"I can't." Dev leaps down into the alley between the buildings. The Slayer leaps over a fence and moves in on the trapped vampire. But Dev pulls up a sewer grate and disappears underground. She knows better than to follow a vampire down there.

The three surviving vampires quickly lose Jen, who is worried about Juanita. She soon gets a call. "Where are you?"

"Don't bother. He's gone. I'm coming back."

"You don't wanna." Jen looks at the bodies and hears the cop cars rushing to the scene. "Let me meet you there."

"I said he's gone."

"Where?"

"Underground."

"And you just let him?"

"No exactly. But I'm not chasing no bloodsucker into the pipes. Look — I'll meet you on Bleeker."

"I got one. Three got away. We gotta follow."

"Where?"

"The East Village. Tompkins Park. Maybe Union Square. A lotta bodies there." There refer to ordinary humans as bodies.

"We'll get 'em, Jenny. We always do."

"What the hell was up with that blonde guy?"

"I dunno. Probably part of the gang. We'll get him too."

Before the fight, Vivian had told the other vampires to meet up in Union Square if anything went wrong. When the other two arrived, they recalled this, and it made them suspicious. "It's almost like you planned for us to fail," Chuckie says. This is hypocritical, since he was actively conspiring against them with Spike until Spike's stock dropped after two straight failures.

"I just wanted to be careful."

"That why you ran so quick," the other guy asks.

"Devlin was gone. The other Slayer could have attacked. Things looked bad. But now they're looking up." She holds out the key. "Devlin left us something special."

"What?"

"Let's go to Penn Station and find out." She looks south and sees Jen and Juanita approaching. "Fuck! They just don't give up." The other two vampires see them, forget their differences and join Viv in running down into the subway. The Slayers comb the area but find no one. Jen decides to call Giles. He answers at close to 5:00 Rome time.

"Sorry to call so late. Or so early."

"It's okay. I was just getting up." An hour later, but no matter. "What is it you want to tell me, um - "

"It's Jen. From New York City."

"Of course. Is, er, Juanita there?"

"Yeah. We've had some problems."

"I heard about last night. Don't worry. You can't be everywhere at once. Even Buffy had to accept the occasional massacre."

"He struck again."

"One vampire?"

"And some friends. Including a guy named Spike." Giles gets out of bed and puts on his glasses.

"I beg your pardon?"

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Spike calls Angel from the tub, where he's resting his hurt knee. Angel's in his car. He looks at the number. "What do you want?"

"Bloody Slayers. I had him! Wus about to kill 'em. And they show up and attack me while he kills people!"

"Clearly you have communication problems with Slayers. What can I do about it?"

"Call Wolfram & Hart's New York office. They must know where the girls live. Then I go over and see them."

"Sounds like a good idea yesterday."

"Yeah. You're right. Did I just say that?"

"I gotta go."

"Why? Are you on a date with Nina?"

"Nope. Not that it's any of your business, but I'm staking out a client who's up to no good."

"Isn't that all your clients?"

"This guy's up to a special brand of no good."

"Can't you have you goons do the scut work?"

"I don't trust them. So are you coming home no that you failed?"

"I haven't failed! I will get the boy. And his sister. He's gonna see her now. And I'm going to meet them. This time I do it right."

"Good luck with that," Angel says dismissively before hanging up. He still thinks a Slayer will kill Dev before he can cause much more trouble.

Devlin takes the sewer west towards the Holland Tunnel, which he runs across. He parked his car in a lot on the New Jersey side, planning for a quick escape. Now he has to go someplace Spike would never think of looking.

"Here it is," Vivian tells the two skeptical vampires. She opens the locker.

"It's a gym bag," Chuckie says glumly. She opens it and smiles.

"We got gatts!" Chuckie reaches in, but Viv slaps his hand. "Not here." She looks around and sees a few cops. The guys realize that's smart. Viv rushes into the ladies' bathroom, and they follow her into a stall. "You can't be in here."

"Very funny." She pulls out a gun. The woman in the next stall hears the male voice.

"Oh my god." Viv looks over one of the guns.

"Silencer. Some sort of sight."

"A laser sight," the male vampire says, pointing it at the wall.

"I can't believe I didn't think of this before," Chucky comments.

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The trunk door opens, and Elektra bolts out. She's in a forest. Nobody else is visible. "Do you have any idea who I am," she asks as she skulks around. "You're going to be very sorry. I kill punks like you for breakfast! Come out, you fuckers!"

"Careful dearie, or I'll have to wash your mouth out with soap."

"Mom?" She can't see her. "Mom, what's going on?"

"The world is on your shoulders. You can't hold it much longer. Naught by yourself." She follows the sound of her mother's voice and finds her among the trees in the pitch black night. It's been a while since Leks has been in the country, and the smell of pine sap is overpowering. Dru wear as long black dress with silver trim.

"Couldn't you like send a note or something?"

"No time. Things fall apart. The center cannot hold."

"Big fucking deal." Dru slaps her. "Jeez. Sorry, mom."

"He's waiting for you."

"I got a lotta guys waiting for me. Hundreds. I'm a popular girl."

"Your brother. And your father."

"Dev's free? Cool!"

"A hunted thing is naught free."

"Ohhh. I get it. Spike's chasing Devlin down, now that he's on our side, and you want me to rescue him."

"He will rescue you."

"Okay. So what do I do?"

"Find him."

"Then how is he rescuing me?" Dru slaps her insolent daughter again.

"We used to hoide in coal mines, your father and I."

"Yeah. So? Sorry. Please continue." Elektra knows further disrespect will only bring on more hitting.

"Your brother is lost, confused. He doesn't know which soide he's on. You have to carry him our way. Else we are doomed."

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"So if they did nothing, this vampire would be dead and three people would be alive, as would another vampire," Gretchen says to Giles over the phone. "Not a good night. Maybe we should release an A.P.B. on the vampires who should not be killed. There's only two, right?"

"He shouldn't have been in New York. If it wasn't for Spike, Jen and Juanita would have killed that vampire and several others." Giles isn't about to give Spike credit at his Slayers' expense.

"He fit the description of the vampire in Orange County. And Cleveland." Giles doesn't want to speak of how Devlin hurt and killed Slayers.

"On the plus side, that means there's a Slayer out there for us," Gretchen notes, referring to Debbie. "Not that she's anywhere on our list of concerns right now."

"Do you think the girls in Cleveland are getting overconfident?"

"Well, there's six of them, they've never come close to losing — how couldn't they be overconfident?"

"Robin has to remind them that they haven't faced any strong vampires yet. What they're doing now doesn't count."

"They know about Vi and Rona. That's enough to keep them focused."

"I see your point. Is Robin around?"

"He's at school, keeping tabs by phone. The girls are in pairs, stalking the local feeding spots. From what I hear, the pickings are fat. More vampires arriving by the day. And dying by the night. Do you miss me?" Rupert is struck by the sudden question.

"Of course. We all miss you."

"You know what I mean."

"Over the years, I've grown accustomed to being alone. But over the previous months, I've come to take companionship for granted."

"I miss you, too. The situation here should be stabilized in a week. Robin can handle it from there."

"Do you think they need reinforcements?"

"Not now. We have enough flypaper." Buffy came up with a Flypaper Theory, whereby the vampires are drawn to the Hellmouth in large numbers, where they can be efficiently slayed. Giles doesn't like this model because it dehumanizes Slayers.

"They're not bloody flypaper. They're girls."

"And we have enough of them. If things take a turn for the worst, we can certainly call in Tiffany and the others. It wouldn't be too hard to get ten girls here. And I don't see how we could need more, even if the world is about to end."

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Leaving on Friday, Elektra arrived at her destination early Saturday morning, which was before Devlin even thought of going to this place. He spent Saturday driving around Pennsylvania, trying to anticipate Spike's next move. By early afternoon, he decided upon a place Spike wouldn't pass by, since it was on the way to Binghamton and Syracuse, rather than Philadelphia or Boston or Cleveland. In other words, it was out of the way. Leks spent Saturday sleeping in her car, then went out looking for her brother. But she soon got hungry, went to the local outlet mall and drained three people. She finally burst into her brother's motel room shortly after midnight. He was at his computer, a bottle of vodka in his right hand. Playing on the laptop's speakers was Nine Inch Nails' "Something I Can Never Have."

"You're just like dad. After he broke up with mom, it was nothing but Pretty Hate Machine' 24-7." Dev turns around.

"What on earth brought you to Wilkes-Barre?"

"Mom. Why else would I be here?"

"She wants to see me?"

"She wants us to hook up. But not in that way." Dev charges Leks, grabs her shoulders and slams her back into the wall.

"And what makes you think I'd want that?" He slams her forehead into the mirror. "You broke us up! You cost me everything."

"Oh give it up, martyr-boy. Hey, I'm bleeding. You bastard."

"I have nothing left to live for."

"Wrong. There's Buffy."

"She's only something to die for."

"It was your choice. I didn't put a gun to your head. So stop blaming others. It's your nature. You couldn't resist. And you still can't. Now let's go kill more Slayers. We're already rock stars."

"Spike's on my trail. The entire Slayer Corp's after me."

"Isn't that how you like it? Like in Afghanistan?" He manages a small grin.

"Sure. But this is very different. We can't kill the enemy."

"Why not? We already started."

"How many Slayers are now in Cleveland?"

"Six. It sucks. That's why I need you."

"We can't take six. Plus there's Spike. Maybe we should go to Europe. Or South America."

"I have my reputation on the line. You told me to stay in Cleveland."

"That's when I thought you'd be alone. Things have changed. I need help." She smiles.

"Guess we got that in common."

"How many Veterans?"

"What?"

"How many of the Cleveland Slayers are Veterans?"

"I dunno. It's not like I have time to interview them about their careers."

"High risk. Low reward. How many vampires are there?"

"About a dozen. More arrive every day, and die every night, so it kinda balances out."

"That should be enough."

"We also have lotsa demons."

"We won't use them."

"Why not?"

"We need to hog all the credit, make them subservient. Otherwise what's the point?"

"But they make great fodder. And some of 'em can fight."

"You've allied with them?"

"Of course. But it's been tough. They don't like me."

"Why would they? Demons hate vampires. On top of that, most of them come from highly patriarchal societies, so they'd feel ashamed to take orders from a woman."

"Sexist, speciesist pigs."

"Our problem right now isn't the Slayers. It's Spike. We have to knock him out of the game."

"Kill daddy?"

"If it comes to that. We can't take them on until he's of our backs."

"Maybe we can trick the Slayers into going after him."

"He'll join up with them first. We need to strike some psychological blow. To Spike and the Slayers."

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Driving close to one hundred miles-an-hour the whole way, Spike makes it into Cleveland just before dawn. He knocks over a sign and steps out of his car, cigarette in mouth, his forehead bumpy and his eyes yellow. "Home Sweet Hellmouth."

He spends the day sleeping in his car and listening to the demon chatter underground to get a sense of the situation. He hears plenty of complaints, and notices plenty of burn marks. Wood and the Slayers have been raiding demon hideouts during the day, surprising the enemy and burning them out of their holes with the flame thrower. Those who can't escape are chopped up by the Slayers. They're hoping to get the demon leader, but he keeps moving around with his band. He did take one piece of Elektra's advice and reorganize the demons into teams of six with one leader commanding the other five. Before then, demons had separated by species. Now, for survival's sake, that barrier was broken. The bands are based on his own group of elite fighters, who Elektra had noticed were quite capable of holding off the Slayers.

Once the sun sets, Spike goes to the high school he heard was the center of the operation. After waiting three hours, the Slayers and Wood finally show up. Spike's waiting in their training room. The girls at first think he's a janitor or homeless or something. Except for Kelly, who recognizes him, and can't believe her eyes. "No."

"Oh yes." Spike walks up to her. "Go ahead. Touch me." She punches him in the nose. He laughs. "A lot better than in the old days, Kel."

"That's for all that training' you gave us." The Potentials thought Spike liked beating up on girls, and couldn't understand why Buffy indulged this desire. "How the Hell did you get out?"

"I'm not quite sure myself. Doesn't matter. I'm here."

"Buffy ain't. She's in Rome."

"I'm not here for Buffy. I heard you have a little vampire problem."

"Problem," Veronica asks. "Only problem is we kill so many we're breaking our stakes." The other girls smile and nod.

"So you've taken care of the vampires who killed Rona and Vi?"

"Don't say their names," Kelly orders. "You don't have the right."

"Sounds like I touched a nerve. You girls don't like to be reminded you can die. But you can. I know that personally."

"He killed two Slayers," Kelly informs the others. "Like a million years ago. Now he's got a soul and he's harmless. You still have a soul?"

"If I didn't, you think I'd take on six Slayers? I may be twice dead, but I'm not suicidal."

Wood enters. "I got the ax." His jaw drops. He grips the ax tighter.

"Come on, Robin. How bout a hug?" Spike jokingly holds his arms out. Wood throws the ax for his neck. Spike ducks just in time, and the ax goes into the drywall. "Bloody hell!"

"What the hell are you doing here? What are you doing anywhere?"

"Don't blame me for coming back, Robin. It's not like it wus by choice. I'm here to take care of your Slayer killers."

"That's mighty generous of you," he responds sarcastically. "But they've moved on."

"To New York. I almost staked one of them, until two of your girls tried to kill me. Short black girl with a Spanish accent; Chinese girl about yeah high."

"That's too bad. What's make you think they'll come back?"

"They will. I know them."

"You know them," Wood looks down at the ground, shakes his head and chuckles ruefully. "You made them."

"One of them."

"I should have guessed. You haven't finished with your killing. You're just doing it by proxy."

"Piss off. I would give my bloody life to stop them. You think I'm happy about Rona and Vi?"

"How did you know about them," he asks suspiciously.

"Word travels fast in the underground. Do you want my help or not."

"No."

"We don't need your help," Katie tells the stranger. Spike chuckles.

"Bollocks. I can find Devlin. I can sense his presence. And I can't be killed by his bloody bullets." Wood thinks this over. He remembers when Elektra shot up his house. He knows about what happened in Orange County.

"So let me get this straight: In exchange for absolutely nothing, you're willing to fight and bleed and even die so you can help us."

"Pretty much."

"Go find your boy. We have lives to save." Spike stares Wood down for a few seconds before walking away. Robin looks at a map to decide where to send the girls this Saturday night.

"Mister Wood really hates vampires," Jessica whispers to Kelly.

"Especially ones who killed his mother," she whispers back.

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Devlin and Elektra are still 500 miles away, so Spike fails to detect them on this night. Instead, he goes to the Hellmouth to get a sense of what it's like and how it compares to Sunnydale. Six demons approach him. "You call this a Hellmouth," he jokes.

"I thought you were dead," the lead demon replies.

"I get that a lot. Zapol?"

"Hello Spike." He walks over to shake his old mate's hand and gets punched in the jaw and falls to his knees.

"Bloody hell. Wut was that for."

"Traitor." Zapol kicks him in the stomach. Spike rolls over, then gets up.

"Traitor? How? I only ever fought for myself."

"You kill your own kind."

"I started killing demons long ago. Nothing's changed. I just don't kill people anymore. Most people."

"Tool." Zapol takes another swing. Spike ducks. "Sellout." He throws a left hook Spike backs away from.

"Typical demon. Doesn't know whether to talk with your mouth or your paws." The other demons try to rush Spike, but Zapol holds his arms out.

"No. This is my fight."

"Let's rip him apart!"

"I'll rip him apart." Zapol approaches Spike and throws a right punch, which Spike blocks. He blocks Spike's right hook and knocks him down with a left kick to the chest. Zapol's friends decide Spike's not too tough and leave. Spike runs away from Zapol and towards an abandoned factory in the process of being demolished. Zapol chases. When Zapol gets close, Spike falls to the ground and trips Zapol up. "You fight cheap."

"I do wut I need to win. But I didn't come here to fight demons." Zapol strikes Spike with the back of his left hand. "Doesn't mean I won't. Spike head-butts Zapol, who proceeds to land a flurry of punches, often getting Spike with his claws. Spike grabs Zapol's horns and tries to snap his neck, but Zapol performs a suplex and slams Spike to the ground behind him. He then throws Spike through the glass and enters the building. Spike grabs a large piece of broken glass, cutting his hands, and drives it into Zapol's stomach. He goes down, and Spike pulls it out.

"You think a flesh wound will kill me?"

"It's a start."

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On Saturday night, Juanita patrols Times Square while Jen takes Central Park. They decide not to make any changes to their routine because of recent killings, and hope to catch the few remaining vampires at their usual feeding grounds. The three vampires split up to canvas the Park for a Slayer. They're usually hardly this bold. But tonight they're packing. However, none of them has ever fired a gun, and most vampires who try to kill Slayers with firearms fail due to bad aim. When one vampire finds Jen, he does a fake bird call which the others can hear from far away, and they rush to the angel fountain where Elektra made her first kill. He reports where she is and they rush over.

Jen's watching some teenagers drink beer out of cans covered in paper bags, knowing they're easy marks. She hides behind a tree, careful to stay out of sight. The vampire who saw her comes into view and attacks a young man, who screams. Jen rushes forward and starts pounding on the vampire while the kids flee. Meanwhile, Vivian and Chuckie come out of hiding. Chuckie fires first, but his three shots sail over Jen's head despite his use of a laser sight. (He's lifting the gun as he fires.) The Slayer turns, having heard the bullets hit trees, though she did not hear the silenced shots. The vampire she was attacking takes out his gun to shoot her in the back, but she turns around and kicks it out of his hands as he fires. He runs away, and Jen gives chase since he's running away from where he shots came from. Vivian realizes things are about to fall apart, and rushes after the Slayer. Her first four shots miss, but her fifth catches the Slayer in the right calf. She goes down, but takes out her opponent with a left sweep kick. Then she gets up and rushes to Viv's right, hiding behind trees. The shot was hardly disabling for a Slayer. Viv misses five more times. The Slayer comes round to attack her from behind. Viv panics because she can't find her. She looks in every direction, firing wildly, unable to distinguish the Slayer's footsteps because the other two vampires are also running around, figuring out what to do. The Slayer climbs a tree, walks out on a limb and leaps at Viv, stake in hand. Chuckie fires four times, hitting Vivian once in the shoulder, but also getting Jen in the chest. She goes down in pain. Viv backs up and aims carefully.

"Now you know what it's like to be afraid." She shoots Jen in the face. The bullet passes through her jaw and left cheek and doesn't kill her. Jen gets up and rushes the frightened vampire, who starts to doubt that you can kill a Slayer with a gun. But Chuckie, who's moved behind Viv, fires five more times, putting all his bullets in the Slayer's chest. She goes down again, but is still not dead. The third vampire retrieves his weapon, hurries over and puts three in her skull. Chuckie adds four more to the body, and his clip falls out. Vivian then turns right, points her gun at Chuckie and shoots the vampire who saved her left in the head. She does the same to his stunned friend with her last bullet. Viv picks up Jen's stake, finishes off the two vampires and sucks the blood out of one of the Slayer's chest wounds. She didn't kill the Slayer on her own, but who's left to disagree with her if she says she did?

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"He's in Cleveland," a stunned and annoyed Giles says to Gretchen on the phone Sunday morning. It's half past one Saturday night where she is.

"I think Robin made that abundantly clear."

"Well that's just bloody perfect."

"If he wants to help, I don't see the problem as long as he doesn't get in the way."

"Spike IS the problem, and he will get in the way." There's a knock at the door, and Olivia answers. Spike's standing there, holding the leader demon's severed head. His left eyes is swollen shut, his nose bloodied, his face bruised and scratched, and his shirt torn and his chest bleeding from claw marks.

"Care to let me in? I brought a gift." Olivia runs into the kitchen.

"Mister Wood. It's Spike! He's got that demon's head." Wood and Kelly rush over.

"This bloke mean anything to you," Spike asks as he tosses Wood the head.

"That's the leader," Kelly points out to Robin's chagrin.

"What do you want?"

"An invite."

"Go to hell."

"I did you a favor."

"Hold on," Gretchen says to Rupert. She enters the living room and sees Spike's trophy. "Nice work. Come on in." She invites him in, just as her sister Ingrid did before Spike raped and bit her. Robin's peeved at her gesture of good will. She goes back into the kitchen. "Well, well, Rupert. Looks like the nuisance helped out after all.

Spike collapses on the coach, causing three Slayers to stand up. "I'd like a place to crash. No staking while I'm asleep. And do you know where I could find some pig's blood around here?"

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Dev and Leks arrive in Cleveland early Sunday morning. He explains their mother's coal mine reference by pointing out that Wilkes-Barre was built near a giant coal mine. She wants to go straight to sleep in her hotel room, and is annoyed to discover Kat and Ricky, along with three new arrivals, sleeping in there. "Get out of my bed," she yells, tearing off the sheets.

"I wouldn't get too comfortable," her brother says.

"Spike can't sense me."

"But the Slayers can ask around. They found you before. Our main advantage is that we know where they live, but they don't know where we live. We initiate the attack at a time and a place of our choosing. I'd like to keep it that way."

"And I'd like to get some shuteye. After I'm done with you." She grabs a muscular young vampire with curly black hair. Men who sleep with her have a way of pledging to die for her, and she could use a few good bodyguards.

"Keep it in his pants for a little longer," Dev says with a sigh. "We're fighting for our lives here, against incredible odds. Winning will take a miracle. But I know we can do it. Slayers can walk away without a kill. We must fight to the death. A little more than a week ago, this town was ruled by two girls who seemed invincible. Now they're in the ground. It's time to show Buffy what vampires can do when their backs are against the wall. This past year has been her time to shine. Now it's our turn."

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This is the final chapter of my story. It will be continued in a new story entitled "For Every Action." Thank you to those of your who wrote reviews (Darklight). As for the rest of you, there's still time. The more reviews I get, the quicker I write and post my chapters.


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